EMPATHY

Ready to cross the street, Chicago, IL.

I just finished a short article written by Alyssa Campbell who works in early childhood education and emotional development.  She makes the point that “key components of emotionally intelligent kids include self-awareness, self-regulation and motivation.  But surprisingly, the most overlooked one is empathy…We teach emotional intelligence by responding to children with empathy.”   

That reading prompted me to recall a very short but meaningful incident that occurred a few years ago as I was leaving a restaurant in Chicago with my three-year-old grandson and his parents.  As we crossed the street to our car and entered the other side, we turned and noticed the little boy’s lips were slightly quivering and a tear was streaking down his rosy cheek.  We immediately stopped in our tracks and bent down to ask why he was suddenly crying.  It was difficult for him to voice what was troubling him but he was saying something about a squirrel.  We all then remembered that we had casually passed a flat squirrel in the middle of the street, but frankly, thought nothing of it.  We’ve all seen lots of squirrels that couldn’t make a decision to run faster, so they froze and paid the ultimate price.  We adults had become desensitized to the image.  Sort of like watching war clips on the nightly news…  

Fortunately, his parents embraced his genuine empathy and his dad asked if he would feel better if he went back and moved the squirrel out of the street to the curb.  My grandson slowly shook his head affirmatively and we waited patiently while the body was removed from ongoing traffic.  Once he witnessed this his demeaner brightened and we proceeded to our car where we all shared an uplifting ride home!    

And lastly, Campbell concludes that we should all “remember to pause and say ‘I love you’.  It’s impossible to spoil kids with love.  We promise that you can never say those words too much.”

 

RELATIONAL CONNECTIONS THAT MATTER

 

Disconnected

“Tell your story.  Shout it. Write it.

Whisper it if you have to.  But tell it.

Some won't understand it.

Some will outright reject it.

But many will thank you for it.

And then the most magical thing will happen.

One by one, voices will start whispering, 'Me, too.'

And your tribe will gather.

And you will never feel alone again.” ---L.R. Knost

Johann Hari writes in his book Lost Connections that “Loneliness isn’t the physical absence of other people, it’s the sense that you’re not sharing anything that matters with anyone else. If you have lots of people around you - perhaps even a husband or wife, or a family, or a busy workplace - but you don’t share anything that matters with them, then you’ll still be lonely.”

Christianity is the only faith that teaches that God is one being that exists as three; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Each being in this Trinity delights in and glorifies the other. This Triumvirate has related to each other for all eternity. When the Son was challenged by the religious leaders of the time regarding which of all the commandments and laws was the greatest, he simply responded that we should love God and others, i.e., we should be relational. After all, we were created in God’s image so we should expect parallels in our being.

We human beings like to relate to one another.  But there’s a time-honored truth that we can easily be alone in a crowd.  We have to meaningfully relate to the crowd, at least a segment of the crowd in our sphere of influence.  Small talk can be a nice ice breaker or useful when time is limited, but if we don’t have the opportunity and time to share those things that really matter in our life, we won’t experience the joy of truly connecting that we all need to survive.  We’ve probably all observed the loss of someone who lost all hope of connection, but we need to be reminded that a connection is always open to our Creator. 

And once we connect with those who are genuinely interested in what we share that matters in our lives, we become more genuinely relational and fulfill our destiny to be more involved in what matters to them.

APPRECIATING CAREGIVERS

Nurses awaiting helicopter, FaceBook

The current coronavirus pandemic certainly has given all of us around the world a focus and heightened appreciation for all of our caregivers in a multitude of specialties.  And in this time of world-wide digital communication we’re now in close touch with those on the battle fields fighting for those stricken with the virus.  Some of them are saying that those that stay at home and do not facilitate the movement of the virus are on the front lines and that they are behind the lines caring for the patients that are seeking medical treatment.

Observing this crisis unfold called to mind a response of the famous anthropologist Margaret Mead when a student asked what she considered to be the first sign of civilization in a culture.  Excavations of ancient sites have uncovered the remains of fire pits, flint stones used for hunting and tools, clay shards, etc.  But she didn’t use any of these common examples.  Instead she replied that it was a healed thigh bone.  She explained that in evolving cultures a broken leg was a certain death sentence in the animal world.  “Helping someone through a time of crisis is where civilization starts”, she concluded.

Heroes aren’t born.  They’re created in times of strife and struggle.  We humans are hardwired for empathy.  And research has noted that when we observe others suffering, our brains are stimulated so that we experience the pain ourselves. 

There’s a great void between empathy and apathy.  People seem to have a range within which we can nurture either trait.  Learning new skills will grow parts of our brain for instance.  Practicing generosity, concern for strangers and others’ emotions grows our ability to create a kinder world.  And empathy is primary in the caregiving profession.  I still remember a senior ICU nurse that came into my room around midnight after major surgery and talked for quite a while to assure me that everything would be OK. 

But full time caring for the sick and being witness to dying patients will take a toll on our caregivers, demanding our own empathy for them.  I was witness to friends when the husband was terminally ill and required a demanding amount of time and energy from his wife.  She actually passed away before him.  And our oncologist that worked tirelessly with my wife to seek treatments for her metastasized breast cancer was said to have a terrible bedside manner and lack of empathy.  Once we spent time understanding his world, we came to realize that we too would have to emotionally detach ourselves from multiple patients with critical diseases for our own sanity.  Nevertheless, when the end was near, he still revealed his underlying humanity we had appreciated all along and for which I was grateful.    

AN INDOMITABLE HUMAN SPIRIT

End of Day, Kiawah, SC

I just recently spent a couple of weeks in a reconditioning facility after total knee replacement. It was my second and thankfully my last, as I only have two legs. As you might expect, life in such a place is not real exciting with your days filled with post operative pain and the mind numbing effects of the necessary pain meds to enable you to work through the required physical therapy. One life lesson learned from the experience is that pain is weakness leaving the body. That’s a good mindset to keep in perspective so that you can keep pressing on with the therapy.

Your world is also compressed within the walls of the facility as you focus on the one goal of rehabbing the body so that you can return back into the world of active living. Any distraction is welcome so that you are not focusing on the temporary pain of regaining your strength. Enter Francine. I first encountered her while getting my tendons and muscles stretched back to normality in the therapy room. Francine is a permanent resident and has become a daily fixture in the room with the staff. She stealth’s into the room in her wheelchair by independently moving it with her feet. And she’s become quite proficient with this method as her hands are apparently wracked with arthritis. After all, I learned that Francine is in her late nineties these days. Her trademark attire is a different colored head scarf that she wears every day of the week. She can’t weigh over 80 pounds. My first impression of Francine was the old woman in the woods in the childhood fable, Hansel and Grettle.

Francine’s mind isn’t quite what it used to be and she can occasionally become irritated, but that hasn’t stopped her from endearing herself to the staff. I’m told that they have gathered on more than one occasion to pay their last respects, only to see her gliding down the halls the very next morning. She was apparently called the pie lady years ago. You can only assume that she sold pies to get by in life. That could explain her habit of carrying a small coin purse with a few dollar bills that she will pull out and methodically count each one and then return them to their resting place. It would seem that she is making change for the sale of another pie. She religiously joins a small cadre of patients and staff outside in the courtyard every day to have a smoke and social time. Then once the smokes are spent, she wheels her chair towards the door and leads a small convoy back inside. Who would possibly try to get her to quit smoking if she has made it this far?

Francine is one of the many folks that are hidden among us on the edge of survival. She obviously cannot take care of herself, so all of us contribute to her well being. We have a moral obligation to do so--especially when you come face to face with such a fellow human being in need. Francine entered the therapy room while I was there one morning in a very agitated state of mind. She was looking for her long dead son because she realized that she needed money to buy food. My therapist assured her that she didn’t need any money to receive food here, but she was inconsolable—as if old fearful memories of going hungry were forever scarred into her mind and had somehow resurfaced amid the fog. Finally, she was wheeled back to her area where familiar nurses could calm her down. On another occasion, she entered the room and demanded one of the therapists to open her mouth. After realizing there was no other choice but to acquiesce, the therapist opened her mouth. “Ah Ha”, shouted Francine. “You have my teeth”! Those false teeth of hers are quite probably part of only a handful of material possessions to her name.

HOW’RE YOU DOING?

Passing By, Philadelphia, PA

Most people who pass and ask “How’re you doing?” don’t really care. Most people who stop and ask “How’re you doing, really?” are prying. Most people who call, mispronounce your name and ask “How’re you doing today?” are trying to sell you something. Thankfully, there actually are some people out there who really care about you and it shows!