It’s Not Always an Easy Gift
I don’t think you can teach empathy. Surely we must try, but I think you’re born with the capacity or not. A little, a lot, it’s a continuum. I’m guessing everyone has a bit; even Hitler had a little dog. If you can’t imagine what I’m going through, if you grew up in a desert and I’m poetic about the rainforest, you’ll have nothing familiar to recognize, no meeting place, no bridge to cross, no common ground, just an emptiness between us.
If you’re imaginative and creative, you might conjure up some mental picture from my words, but the essence of the experience is not transmissible in words. If you’ve been there, you know. You understand the terrain; it’s not a foreign territory. All I ever wanted was someone to say, “I understand,” and mean it.
If people can’t ‘feel’ you, it’s not personal. Don’t just talk louder. They attend your words but cannot process them. Someone who really gets you, is really present, is like the first rain after months of scorching sun. It’s deeper than relief. It’s spiritual. It’s sacred.
I might be wrong ~ you may be able to paint so vivid a landscape with your story, even the blind will see it. Even the confused will understand. Even the deaf will listen.
LBM 7/16/2021
