Tell me, what is it like to be compassionate?
A couple of years ago, a person I hold in great regard advised me; learn to be compassionate towards others — the old, the young, the rich, the poor and such. My eyes lit up at the words. It felt like something I can learn and adapt to easily, quite like I did, many other things in life.
I read books, I Googled till I could see white spots in front of my eyes, I asked question upon question to those close to me on what they perceived it to be, I spent hours on my way to work listening to talks by spiritual Gurus, brilliant, learned people, wise people who attempted to convey the essence of life in a language and real-life context we would all understand.
600 odd days since, I can confidently say I have barely scratched the surface.
What I have experienced and learnt, though, is on aspects that surround compassion and hopefully, help get closer to experiencing it in its true form.
It is what I hope to break down and put down as thoughts in this piece.
PS: I strongly believe words fail to express what we experience. Compassion, empathy, sympathy and many, as words too, seem to condense to a great extent what it really is to be that way.
Compassion is a much abused word, much like the word abuse itself
The beauty of compassion is, it feels like a breath of fresh air when I try to preach it to another being. When it comes to practicing it myself, it feels like playing dinosaur on Google homepage, where the faster I go, the more likely I am to lose, and fall many painful cactii behind.
I’ve thought long and hard about people in my life who have unconditionally, and I mean, unconditionally showered affection, love and understanding upon others. But, I soon realized that it may be infinitely easier to be so with a parent, a sibling, a nephew, niece or someone you are related to by blood, than to a stranger.
Why? I wondered. It may be because of years of conditioning; what we have been taught, what we have learnt from our experiences, the changes we have witnessed around us.
Let me go one by one. As a child, I was taught to avoid talking to strangers, which translates to don’t even turn in their direction. It was sound advice. There’s no denying it. However, years later, it was when I myself was going through testing times, when I felt alone, that I realized how not to take those words too literally. I realized strangers was not the whole world which was not family. At that time, I needed to have faith in the world, faith that it would stand by me when I most needed the comfort, the security, the understanding. Faith in those very strangers I thought I must avoid even so much as glancing at when I was young.
The man I am married to shared beautiful words from a Guru which resonate with how I felt at that time;
Faith in the world gives you peace of mind. Faith in God evokes love in you.
The first sentence caught my attention. It reminded me of the countless times I’ve asked myself; if I feel the need to seek comfort in a world that will understand and love me unconditionally, what have I done to make the world feel loved and understood the same way?
I wish I was empathetic, at the very least
A few days ago, I was reminded of a girl I studied in school with many, many years ago. I remember her like I saw her yesterday. She was quiet, almost non-existent. She would eat alone. Sit on a bench in between two girls, yet be alone. Head bent low. Almost invisible to the teachers as well.
Back then, I did turn in her direction, but only to notice her as someone who existed in our classroom. I don’t remember when, why or how, but a year later, she was not seen in our classroom anymore. Nor in our school.
I wonder today, what a fool I was to give her side-long glances in my vanity rather than go up and speak to her. Not out of pity. Not out of sympathy or empathy. Merely as a fellow classmate. I wonder today, how she must have felt to be ignored and at times taunted at behind her back, and I choke with tears. It was, in a sense, a kind of privilege of being ‘different’ from her. A privilege, I realize today, is as vain as can be.
Privilege, I came to understand, is another form of self-taught or externally taught conditioning that prevents us from being compassionate because we see ourselves as different from others.
Today, I truly pray, from the bottom of my heart, that wherever she is, that she is happy, that she is loved for who she is.
Battling the Self
One of the fundamental traits of compassion, I am told, is to look beyond the self and understand why another person is who she is.
Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Don’t think about yourself. Don’t think about why it affects you. Try to understand why the other people, who are sad, jealous, angry, agitated, happy or ecstatic are who they are.
I know what you must be thinking. Why should I think about another person? My happiness matters more. It sounds comforting and convincing, because it soothes the hurt we have been experiencing. It gives hope to know that we have a chance to run away from it.
I realize the impact, the irony of those words, of that feeling to think about oneself, only when I myself have days when I feel highly misunderstood. It is only when another is unable to understand the anger, agitation, jealousy, sadness or pain in me that I realize how much I crave for that understanding, for that affection, for that love.
It can, I believe, move mountains. It can bring a massive positive change in me, in you, in anybody.
Here, I am reminded of a thoughtful story my brother once shared with me. It was a story by Thich Nhat Hanh.
When you plant a lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce. You look for reasons it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet, if we have problems with friends or family, we blame the other person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will grow well, like the lettuce. Blaming has no positive effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason or argument. That is my experience. No blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you understand, and show that you understanding, you can love, and the situation will change.
…and the society will change, is my two cents to these wise words by a man I am no comparison to.
On a side note, Thich Nhat Hanh feels like the phoenix in Harry Potter, who comes and goes with his wise words when I am most in conflict, when I most need an answer. I have not so much as Googled how he looks, or his other works. But, I come across his wonderful words in the most unexpected places when I most need them. It’s like a puzzle of who he is, that I am solving through his thoughts, one mysterious coincidence at a time.
The lesson my 5-month old nephew taught me
That’s right. My 5-month old nephew, who still curves his lip round and sideways, and shrieks in the name of communication, taught me a valuable lesson one day.
He was lying down on the bed and kicking his hands and legs like he would run a marathon should he be given a chance. Soon after, he frowned, whimpered a little, increasing it in gradual decibels, until it became a shriek and a wail. All this to carry him and hold him in my arms.
Amidst all that shrieking, he taught me something; why, when I am a helpless little child and throwing tantrums, unreasonable or not, are you filled with affection and understanding, and are not able to do it when another being, who was a child too once upon a time, does the very same?
I said these words aloud, and as though in approval of having taught me well, he praised me; Goooo.
The many contradictions
A conflict I am often faced with is; do you shower compassion on another being at the cost of sacrificing your own self-esteem, your own self-respect? It is a very thin line, as I understand.
There is a verse in Sanskrit, which my mind toys around with a lot, when this doubt creeps up in my mind.
One that says; शठे शाठ्यं समाचरेत् — which roughly translates to deal with the devil in his own way.
I ask myself; where is the understanding here?
We are limiting our potential
I’ve read it and heard it many times but I do believe today that as humans, we are limiting our potential, wrapping our heads in what we can achieve in the material world. What we don’t see, probably, is that we are capable of much more. How much more? We’ll possibly know when we start looking beyond ourselves.
What we don’t, at least I most certainly don’t see at all times is that we are all one at the end of day. Why then, do we look at our own selves any differently?
Note: This was an exploratory piece to pen down my thoughts on a process I’ve been contemplating on for years. I would love to hear your thoughts on this.
