Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Passageways of Compassion


Wouldn’t it be nice if we were met without assumptions of our person? Isn’t it nice that some of the presuppositions are correct? For instance, it’s a relief to be known as a man, woman, caring, loyal, professional, [fill in the religious affiliate here], and so on. I wouldn't want children throwing bread at me as if I were a pigeon at the local park. If there is a misunderstanding the offense is a choice behavior, if the insult is deliberate the blame goes to the deliverer. For both instances, would it not be a wonderful endeavor for our first instinct when looking at or meeting people for it to embracive in a curious and compassionate way? Perspective is enhanced by the observer’s interaction. Let’s say we are learning by watching others. We gather interactions of the individual alone and in social settings. We note the physical changes and typical or atypical reactions. We’ve learned much. However, in order to have a complete analysis of our observing senses we would need to speak to them, smell their presence, which, in turn also engages the sense of taste as we inhale particle bits of their smell when it hits our tongue on the way to the lungs. We can embody empathy by the cooperation of shared senses. This may sound creepy or unfavorable for an introvert, but it’s meant to be an inspiration to interconnect with our fellow earth mates more often. The outward projection is not always meant for a meet-and-greet scenario, but if a compassion mentality is present before the introduction, the outcome becomes more enriched. It literally benefits the mind to organize our thoughts in this way. Fine-tuning our discernible abilities helps keep a healthy balance, or meshing, of compassion and restraint. It’s at night in a dark alley that we are glad for our presuppositions. But then again, that guy in a dark hoodie jacket, scruffy beard, and wild eyes just wanted to know the direction to 9th Avenue because he was late to his daughter’s dance recital. You’ve let go of the sharp object in your pocket, but glad it was there… just in case.



Here’s a hilarious example of a misapplied social perspective:
Also, more on the mind and compassion in Krista Tippet’s podcast “Investigating Healthy Minds” with Richard Davidson:

Furthermore! A quote from Charlotte Brontë’s novel “Jane Eyre” that illuminates understanding:
“Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal — as we are!”

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

The Thread Between Many Colors


Holy words. I never realize I skip its contents until I’ve been without for a few days. The resolution of my need does not straight away give me peace. So, I keep thinking back. There is no other likely source that replenishes me, but why not? I trust in it. Why? … Because it has never failed me. Why should the unsuccessful nature of a cause matter as displeasure potentially shapes good character? Because I do well on my own to create such disaster and there is a necessity for reliable stability. These Words: guide me when I fault, show where to keep my heart, what is beneficial for my body, what consists in good relationships, teach family dynamics, help me understand human behavior, lessons on how to be in the world, appreciate things unseen, more beyond comprehension. I am not lofty in these insinuations. It’s basic cause and effect, really. There’s no use arguing what’s best if I know the benefits of a working system.
Can this be true for others? Who am I to say that anything else giving such profits is of no significance? I know Richard Wurmbrand’s words to God, “Your laws are unjust” as my own. Unequal reactions to unequal circumstances cannot come from or be directed by equal laws. So the holy laws must be unequal to be just. People governed according to their choices? According to their individual nature? According to the unborn heart? Does a law need to be just to be followed? Governmentally, no. Spiritually, no. Wurmbrand suggests there is something more to be learned. Somewhere beyond the “I’m a good person” identity. I fall back to love and empathy as my resolve for it all. I want to say that following the holy Words is what’s best for others, but I can’t say that with complete confidence. After all, Judas was also a disciple of Christ. Yet, any Great Betrayer still has an important role in the design. I could say without a doubt that Christ will always lead you to where you need to be. 
Aside from an enormous complexity with no one man comprehending it all, I do believe in dedication to where we keep our trust. It’s a beginning that defines the present and claims the future. It’s not a matter to be invested lightly. It’s an ambition selected by one affecting all. 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

A Share of Diaries


Empathy and pity share a difference of definition. Balanced properly, empathy has been a strength to me where pity leaves me ravenous to helplessness. Somehow in the embodiment comes transformation. Affection toward sorrow sees no end of it. 
“You see, Pity is like an animal. An animal from which one can make great demands—but must not ask too much. The best of dogs can go mad. Pity is powerful and devouring.  I don’t know why we always think of it as something rather sniveling and silly. One of the strongest passions of men—that’s what it is. At that time I thought I should be eaten up by it. Pride, envy, anger, even lust, the seven deadly sins, were just a chorus howling their pain. Like a pack of wolves with petrol poured over them and set alight.” (Diary of a Country Priest, Georges Bernanos)