Day of Compassion

 

I was actually a bit excited about this project. I was hoping for a huge revelation of sorts that I could, not only benefit from, but that I could pass on to others. What I found was much more subtle and self-reflective in nature. Perhaps, it will be a ripple effect though, and continue to make waves in other areas of my life.

I am fortunate, because I have a mother who instilled in us kids the virtue of having compassion for others; not only in words, but also in actions. We had a state mental hospital about a mile away from our house in The Dalles, Oregon. When my mom heard that many of the patients there did not see their families between Christmas and Easter, she felt so empathetic for them that she arranged for both mine and my sister’s 4­-H groups to make Valentine’s Day cards and personally deliver them. I was nine at the time, and I will be honest and say that although my heart went out to the people in the institution, (especially after my mother explained how many kids were there) I was scared.

I remember walking into the huge doors into this very large hallway, and from around a corner a very large young man came running at us. I was so scared that I just stood there with my eyes wide. I saw some staff chasing him, but knew they would not get to him before he got to us. When he got to me he had his arms up and I was sure that he was going to hit me, but instead he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a huge bear hug. He was then pulled off of me and put behind a closed door. The staff was quick to apologize and explain that he was just so excited to have visitors, he couldn’t help himself. In that moment, I understood why my mom had brought us there and felt true empathy for another person.

We went back to the hospital a few times after that, until it closed down. My sister made friends with a girl there who was her age. She was there due to brain injury from a horse accident. I started volunteering in the special education class at my school, and became a defender of “those” kids at school. I later went on to become a Special Education Teacher… just a ripple effect of one of my mother’s compassionate whims. I could write a short novel about the lessons I learned from her compassion and how I have passed those on to my daughter, and my siblings on to their kids.

  I realize that this paper is supposed to be about My day of compassion, but thinking what compassion actually means was a large part of my day today. I started off my day knowing that I had to make a conscience effort on my thoughts.. especially on my thoughts towards myself. As I began to encounter people, many of whom were complete strangers, I tried to think of nice things I could do or say. Then I had the thought, “Wait, that is being kind, not compassionate.” I even looked for opportunities to be compassionate, especially for anything that would be out of the norm for me. I looked for people in distress, homeless, sad, etc. – anything to take me out of my comfort zone and truly try this experiment, but everything I did just seemed to fall under the category of kindness.

Then I went home and looked up the definition of compassion, to see what I was missing. What I found was very interesting. I have never given the word that amount of thought, and realized that it is a “Major” concept in every major religion in the world, and although extremely similar, each has a slightly different meaning. In the Hindu religion it is called Ahimsa (which I have heard in yoga class) and it means refraining from harmfulness; in Judaism it means sorrow and pity for the distressed; in Buddhism compassion is that which makes the heart of the good move at the pain of others; in Christianity it means to comfort those who are distressed or trouble; and in Muslim, foremost among God’s attributes are mercy and compassion and they begin every prayer invoking that. Compassion truly is a common link between most people of the world, even those who are in conflict. (Which is really ironic, and a whole other paper!)  I started off this class sharing that I ask my students to approach anything new that they learn with curiosity and try to find a common link to what they believe or know. Compassion really is that link.

My only moment, in my opinion, of true compassion today was when I spoke with my daughter.  She had very recently got a guinea pig and it had gotten sick and died a few days ago. My daughter has always been a person who has more empathy for animals than people, so I was not surprised when I got a text today from her letting me know how much she was still struggling with the loss. I can be a bit pragmatic over the loss of rodents, especially one that one has only known for a few weeks, but I realized… this is my chance! I will try my best to be even more compassionate than last night when I talked to her. I will admit that I may have faked it a bit at first, (And am now a believer of the fake it to make it philosophy when it comes to compassion… dang it!) but became very empathetic as our conversation went on.

I probably should point out before I go any further, and thought of as a complete jerk, that my daughter is 23 and lives on her own.  I decided to ask her to tell me the whole thing again from beginning to end, because she often skips through to the important parts. When she shared with me that she found it not breathing and tried to give it CPR, I was speechless for a moment and then thought, “Be compassionate.” As we talked it out, she realized that what really upset her was that she kept thinking about grandma, because my mom has recently had some severe heart problems, with a horrible prognosis, and now has a DNR in place. I had no idea my daughter had made this connection between her grandma and her guinea pig. I don’t think she even knew until we started to talk about it a bit deeper. We talked, and cried together for quite a while about death and grandma’s condition, and I think she felt better about all of it when we got off the phone

I know that I was already contemplating the lessons that my mother taught me about compassion, as child, before my conversation with my daughter today.  I just didn't realize how I would connect those later in the day. I truly had no intention of telling the story of my youth when I started to write this paper.  But, I am one of those people who usually likes to let things flow organically, and it was what flowed. I think that this is one way for me to share some of my mother’s legacy with others. Perhaps hearing about her lessons on compassion will ignite or inspire a similar lesson in someone else and that can start a whole new ripple effect.