Objective compassion
August 6, 2006 | 12:00am
Objective compassion.
This phrase was brought up several times during the Kolisko Conference last April. It was spoken of in the context of helping others to heal. Everyone I know seems to be in pain lately, so the words have been churning in my mind.
During our biography course, we practiced listening to each other’s life stories. It was amazing how many parallels there were in the stories we heard, no matter how varied our life experience, age, profession, or vocation. We immediately saw ourselves in the other and had to guard against being lured into the similarities. If you weren’t careful, you would live into the stories instantly and lose sight of the purpose of the exercise. It took monumental effort to give our full attention to the unfolding life tale with authentic interest and conscious detachment. We all worked hard to truly listen to someone’s life story without bringing our own stuff to the table. The goal was to go beyond ourselves so that we could be fully present.
A few years ago, during a particularly dark time, I consulted with a Christian Community priest. He listened to me like I have never been listened to in my life. I babbled. I sobbed. I talked straight for an eternity. His attention never wavered. After I spoke, he repeated everything I said in perfect sequence. This was so that he could be sure he heard me correctly before he spoke. That was a powerful experience. To be listened to with such devotion but without judgment is incredible. To know you are truly heard not just through physical ears but in another person’s soul is simply astounding. It was a true spiritual gift to have my imperfections and wounds seen and accepted. After we had agreed that he did not miss anything, he began to speak to me earnestly. I did not hear, you should have done this or that, or maybe you should do this or that. He never said I was right or wrong, good or bad. But he presented me with what I can only describe as "soul pictures" and spoke to me about the health of the human soul and spirit. He recognized and acknowledged the depth of my pain without going there with me. His warmth and objectivity pushed me towards inner clarity. It wasn’t just what he said but the quality of the space he created for me that comforted me. After that, I was able to make the most difficult decision of my life knowing I was walking the path of truth.
Objective compassion. I know that’s what he gave me. After he repeated everything I told him, I saw my situation without the clutter of emotions and astrality that had clouded my judgment and had kept me from moving forward decisively. He didn’t ask for details of my circumstances but worked on a totally different level. He created a space for me that wasn’t there before. It allowed me to see myself and those around me clearly, minus the unnecessary weight of everyone else’s drama, mine included. What a relief. When one is going through the dark night of the soul, it is an immense blessing to be able to see just enough light to be able to put one foot forward. That’s what objective compassion gives – light – so that the person in pain might find her own way forward in a manner that is constructive and healing for her. It is important to refrain from giving someone specific instructions on how to proceed with his life because we can never know which path a person ought to take, no matter how much we think we have learned, but we can help give that person the impulse to figure it out for himself.
When we interfere in someone else’s crisis, we add rocks and debris to an already untenable terrain. Once we think we know what’s good for another person, we are already in over our heads. I think the best thing to do is offer suggestions that help the person in crisis to see himself clearly, walk in truth, and then be able to move towards integration and wholeness. We cannot make decisions for other people, but we can help them by being warm but always objective. Empowering another person to take hold of his life out of his own inner striving sets him on the road to gentle but lasting healing.
It is the same with fever, especially in children. When there is a fever, it means the child is fighting to resolve something in himself. If we interfere by giving paracetamol on the onset because we think that fever is suffering and we don’t want that for our child, we suppress a very important strengthening process. But if we support the child by giving natural remedies, lots of fluids, a warm and quiet environment to heal, we are helping him develop the capacity to fight more serious illnesses later in life. I have seen how strong my children become after a bout with fever. They are more in their bodies, somehow, if not obviously taller or bigger than before. Sometimes, a side of their personality becomes quite pronounced after a fever.
All this is to say that crisis is this fever that helps us to be stronger. Our task as caregivers is to help people work through it. Interfering with the process only suppresses health. I have learned to approach rising temperatures with calm and gratitude and rejoice when my children emerge whole and new. It is not easy but I try to cast my insecurities and fear aside so that they can deal with whatever comes their way. I give them space and support. I do this, too, for people who come to me during particularly difficult times in their biography.
This is a challenge for our culture because we tend to be overly sympathetic and dramatic. We think compassion means taking on what we deem another person incapable of carrying himself. But what we really need to learn is to step aside so that more light can stream in for people to determine what’s right for them. We can help people in crisis see through the darkness and begin to take those painful but necessary steps towards a life that is in synch with eternal truth. We should listen, hold them deeply in our thoughts and prayers, step back, and create space and light for the future to emerge. It is an injustice to come crashing into another’s life when you are not invited, but if you are, you must treat their life story as sacred. It is sacrilege to start speaking about it to others. A person’s biography has its place in the world and the way he chooses to navigate it must be respected.
I write about this now because we are suffering from one kind of separation or another – that is the story of humanity today. So many of us are faced with it in our own lives or in the lives of those we hold dear: people are dying too young through illness or violence, families are torn apart as one or another parent leaves this country in search of a decent life, marriages are dissolving, we are waking up to our authentic selves and seeing that the lives we have made no longer resonate. When this happens, we don’t know how to be. How can we help? What do we do? Objective compassion. That’s where we can begin. It is a good reminder that love means letting go and trusting that the other can find his true way home.
Please come to "An Introduction to Anthroposophy: A Conscious Way of Life for the Modern Human Being" by Jake Tan, on Saturday, August 12, 2006, 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. at ISIP Center, 6241 Palma corner Mañalac Streets, Poblacion, Makati City (near Ateneo Law Schools, Rockwell), P350, light snacks included. Please call Raquel at 895-8421 or 0906-435-3184 or Mimi at 721-8053 or Grace at 371-3502.
Thanks for your letters. I can be reached at magisip@yahoo.com. No junk or attachments please.
This phrase was brought up several times during the Kolisko Conference last April. It was spoken of in the context of helping others to heal. Everyone I know seems to be in pain lately, so the words have been churning in my mind.
During our biography course, we practiced listening to each other’s life stories. It was amazing how many parallels there were in the stories we heard, no matter how varied our life experience, age, profession, or vocation. We immediately saw ourselves in the other and had to guard against being lured into the similarities. If you weren’t careful, you would live into the stories instantly and lose sight of the purpose of the exercise. It took monumental effort to give our full attention to the unfolding life tale with authentic interest and conscious detachment. We all worked hard to truly listen to someone’s life story without bringing our own stuff to the table. The goal was to go beyond ourselves so that we could be fully present.
A few years ago, during a particularly dark time, I consulted with a Christian Community priest. He listened to me like I have never been listened to in my life. I babbled. I sobbed. I talked straight for an eternity. His attention never wavered. After I spoke, he repeated everything I said in perfect sequence. This was so that he could be sure he heard me correctly before he spoke. That was a powerful experience. To be listened to with such devotion but without judgment is incredible. To know you are truly heard not just through physical ears but in another person’s soul is simply astounding. It was a true spiritual gift to have my imperfections and wounds seen and accepted. After we had agreed that he did not miss anything, he began to speak to me earnestly. I did not hear, you should have done this or that, or maybe you should do this or that. He never said I was right or wrong, good or bad. But he presented me with what I can only describe as "soul pictures" and spoke to me about the health of the human soul and spirit. He recognized and acknowledged the depth of my pain without going there with me. His warmth and objectivity pushed me towards inner clarity. It wasn’t just what he said but the quality of the space he created for me that comforted me. After that, I was able to make the most difficult decision of my life knowing I was walking the path of truth.
Objective compassion. I know that’s what he gave me. After he repeated everything I told him, I saw my situation without the clutter of emotions and astrality that had clouded my judgment and had kept me from moving forward decisively. He didn’t ask for details of my circumstances but worked on a totally different level. He created a space for me that wasn’t there before. It allowed me to see myself and those around me clearly, minus the unnecessary weight of everyone else’s drama, mine included. What a relief. When one is going through the dark night of the soul, it is an immense blessing to be able to see just enough light to be able to put one foot forward. That’s what objective compassion gives – light – so that the person in pain might find her own way forward in a manner that is constructive and healing for her. It is important to refrain from giving someone specific instructions on how to proceed with his life because we can never know which path a person ought to take, no matter how much we think we have learned, but we can help give that person the impulse to figure it out for himself.
When we interfere in someone else’s crisis, we add rocks and debris to an already untenable terrain. Once we think we know what’s good for another person, we are already in over our heads. I think the best thing to do is offer suggestions that help the person in crisis to see himself clearly, walk in truth, and then be able to move towards integration and wholeness. We cannot make decisions for other people, but we can help them by being warm but always objective. Empowering another person to take hold of his life out of his own inner striving sets him on the road to gentle but lasting healing.
It is the same with fever, especially in children. When there is a fever, it means the child is fighting to resolve something in himself. If we interfere by giving paracetamol on the onset because we think that fever is suffering and we don’t want that for our child, we suppress a very important strengthening process. But if we support the child by giving natural remedies, lots of fluids, a warm and quiet environment to heal, we are helping him develop the capacity to fight more serious illnesses later in life. I have seen how strong my children become after a bout with fever. They are more in their bodies, somehow, if not obviously taller or bigger than before. Sometimes, a side of their personality becomes quite pronounced after a fever.
All this is to say that crisis is this fever that helps us to be stronger. Our task as caregivers is to help people work through it. Interfering with the process only suppresses health. I have learned to approach rising temperatures with calm and gratitude and rejoice when my children emerge whole and new. It is not easy but I try to cast my insecurities and fear aside so that they can deal with whatever comes their way. I give them space and support. I do this, too, for people who come to me during particularly difficult times in their biography.
This is a challenge for our culture because we tend to be overly sympathetic and dramatic. We think compassion means taking on what we deem another person incapable of carrying himself. But what we really need to learn is to step aside so that more light can stream in for people to determine what’s right for them. We can help people in crisis see through the darkness and begin to take those painful but necessary steps towards a life that is in synch with eternal truth. We should listen, hold them deeply in our thoughts and prayers, step back, and create space and light for the future to emerge. It is an injustice to come crashing into another’s life when you are not invited, but if you are, you must treat their life story as sacred. It is sacrilege to start speaking about it to others. A person’s biography has its place in the world and the way he chooses to navigate it must be respected.
I write about this now because we are suffering from one kind of separation or another – that is the story of humanity today. So many of us are faced with it in our own lives or in the lives of those we hold dear: people are dying too young through illness or violence, families are torn apart as one or another parent leaves this country in search of a decent life, marriages are dissolving, we are waking up to our authentic selves and seeing that the lives we have made no longer resonate. When this happens, we don’t know how to be. How can we help? What do we do? Objective compassion. That’s where we can begin. It is a good reminder that love means letting go and trusting that the other can find his true way home.
Please come to "An Introduction to Anthroposophy: A Conscious Way of Life for the Modern Human Being" by Jake Tan, on Saturday, August 12, 2006, 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. at ISIP Center, 6241 Palma corner Mañalac Streets, Poblacion, Makati City (near Ateneo Law Schools, Rockwell), P350, light snacks included. Please call Raquel at 895-8421 or 0906-435-3184 or Mimi at 721-8053 or Grace at 371-3502.
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