The Ideal Conditions for Compassion*

Modern society is not geared to deliver compassion. It's not that the lack of compassion in urban America is news to me, only that I recently realized that the conditions that make for genuine compassion are lacking. I came to this awareness a few nights ago during a good, long sob.

I spent a great deal of my childhood and early and mid adulthood crying whenever I was by myself. During the past decade or so, that has not been the case. Besides the trail of unseen tears I've left during the past week, I can't remember the last time I cried on my own behalf. I frequently cry when I see photos of misery or read of violence, but I rarely cry over my own life anymore. This week was an exception.

I won't go into the details of my existential Angst--my German readers can relate. I'll only say that I didn't know to whom I could turn. Most of my friends live far away, making it impossible for them to give a hug or a hand hold. Many live close by, but I see them only twice or thrice a year, if that. It seems rather presumptuous to call someone with a sob story if I only see or speak with him or her so rarely. I don't want them to think that the only contact with me is a downer. (Of course, I have done that anyway, but I now feel that's being selfish.) Other friends have too much on their plate, either work-wise, family-wise,  financially, or emotionally. And some are intellectual buddies, not people who are comfortable bearing their souls to me or having me bear mine to them.


They are all good people; it's just that the conditions in this society are not conducive to compassion. People are busy. They're stressed. They have very little time for themselves and their immediate family or loved ones, much less for friends. Like traffic noise, this state of affairs is not any one person's fault. It is simply the way things are.

So there I was, hugging my pillow for comfort and talking aloud to who-knows-who. At some point in my sob fest, I turned my emotions off so that my intellect could make an analysis. I turned on my bedroom light, grabbed the notebook I keep on my dresser for just such late-night insights, and began writing a list of the ideal conditions for compassion:

* Luxuriousness of time--Neither the sobber or the compassionate one is pressed for time. The former does not have to quickly spill her guts because either she or her confessor must soon rush off to do something else.

* Shared experiences.--Ideally, someone with chronic illness would speak with someone else who has a chronic illness. Likewise, someone who has been without relationship for many years probably will not be well-served by someone who has been in a long-term, happy relatioship and has never known chronic loneliness.

* Ongoing face-to-face contact.--Ideally, someone you see on a daily or at least a weekly basis. Someone who knows your life, who knows you.

* No interruptions, intrusions, or distractions--Cell phones off.

* A quiet place.

* Privacy--This is not a conversation that should be overheard by anyone, aquaintances or strangers.

* Mindfulness and the ability to really listen--The confessor gives his or her full attention to the person in pain. No thinking about what needs to be done that night or what happened yesterday.

* Selflessness--A concentration on the one who is hurting, not an opportunity to deflect the conversation away from the sobber and to oneself or one's own experiences, unless they are particularly germane and do not pull the conversation away from the feelings and experiences of the confessee. For example, if a friend tells you that she has cancer, don't tell her you know how she feels because you stubbed your toe.

* A deep sense of the individual and of the universal, of one's mortality and one's immortality--This is rarely achieved, but when it is, the experience is unmistakable and indelible. You are listening to this person's particular challenges, but you simultaneously have a strong sense that these challenges and this person are an archetype for the sick, the betrayed, the depressed, the forgotten, etc. You also see this person as a finite being and as a part of something magnificient and eternal. If you and the other achieve this symbiosis, you will recognize it as something very close to falling in love, only you are falling into the great heart of being not into the arms of one person.


Looking over this list, you can see that very rarely are these conditions present when someone in our rush-rush, consumer-oriented society is in pain. But perhaps by keeping this list in mind the next time someone who is hurting crosses our path, we will remember to slow down, be completely present, and provide a safe, inviting place for the person to cry. Listening with one's full being is afterall the greatest gift you can ever give someone. And you may just receive in return the greatest gift you have ever received--a glimpse of eternity in the other's eyes.

* The photos posted here are ones I took in my neighbor's front yard.