THE FIERCE SWORD OF COMPASSION
Today’s post is about compassion, what it is AND what it isn’t.
Linguistically, the word compassion has its roots in Latin and Old French. From the Latin compassionem, com (with), pati (to suffer), ion (state of), it means “the act of suffering together.” When we feel another’s sorrow: at a friend’s husband’s funeral, with a mother whose child is undergoing chemotherapy, we often weep with them and for them. On another level, we feel the anguish also for ourselves. We too are not immune, we all have experienced or will experience pain and death, of one kind of another.
There is much healthy connection in feeling sympathy for another’s pain. If we have experienced similar tragedies, we may have something insightful to contribute to alleviate the suffering. Yet, even if we have never had that experience, as humans we contain the urge and strong desire to end or at least, ease their suffering. Our willingness and openness to become a vehicle for healing can, in and of itself, bring comfort.
One’s presence can and does provide a palpable sense of strength, a buoyancy, when I will stand with you in your pain and you stand with me in mine; and we bear it together. We CAN bear it. It is the opposite of fearful aversion that does not want to look, that feels like it can’t look. The kind that keeps us tucked away in our separateness. There are those who hold on for dear life with the denial that such and such could never happen to me. This contains the seeds of suffering for everyone.
Yet, there is no escaping our connectedness. In fact, an Italian scientist named Giacomo Rizzolatti and his colleagues discovered a class of brain cells called “mirror neurons.” Their research showed that through our mirror neurons we actually feel the emotions, movements, and intentions of others. It is part of our social brain, “a neural circuitry that connects us.” These finding illustrate that to a certain degree at least, we are “genetically predisposed” to be compassionate.
But we often get confused about the limits of what that means. We can mistakenly think that to be really compassionate, we have to help every homeless person we see, fix our friend’s latest crisis or family’s members ongoing difficulties, or even volunteer for one more thing. These are our own personal guilt trips. There is a one-sided nature to this kind of care, that can ignore our inner sense of integrity. It can be co-dependency.
Here is where the fierce sword of compassion is necessary. The fierce sword is the “no” of compassion. We can listen and serve others, but must include ourselves for love and kindness.
Jack Kornfield, in his book The Wise Heart, gifts us this wider view:
“Compassion is a circle that encompasses all beings, including ourselves. Compassion blossoms only when we remember ourself and others, when the two sides are in harmony. Compassion is not foolish. It doesn’t just go along with what others want so they don’t feel bad. There is a yes in compassion, and there is also a no, said with the same courage of heart. No to abuse, no to violence, both personal and worldwide. The no is said not out of hate but out of unwavering care. Buddhists call this the fierce sword of compassion. It is the powerful no of leaving a destructive family, the agonizing no of allowing an addict to experience the consequences of his acts.”
It is the learning to finding the harmony between holding on and letting go…in love. May you find courage and renewal in both the yes and the no of your compassion.
