Sympathy, Empathy & Love

(It's raining here - again - and I'm in no mood for human company so Kita Kat & I are hanging out, having some deep thoughts. How ironic is this post subject considering I'm not in the mood for humans?)

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With the way people are acting these days - heartless, crazy, totally immoral - I've been examining my own heart and soul. I do this every now and then because my mother taught me to. I had to be a teenager when she first gave me the talk about being more than someone breathing up the air in the world. It's important, she used to tell me, to take a good look at yourself every now and then. Need to make sure you're all right with God, self and others. Need to make sure you haven't forgotten to be a decent human, planet co-resident and all that. 

A part of being decent (according to my mother, and therefore according to me) is to have sympathy, empathy and love.  Each has their own place in a heart that's not frozen solid with selfishness.

Sympathy is defined in many ways, but it comes from a Latin word meaning "to have common feelings." (And, yes, I had to look that up once.)

It's easy to have sympathy without having a heart for others. We all have common feelings about being broke or pissed off or in love. My having a feeling in common with yours does not have to mean that I give a damn about you.

I am too lazy to look up "Empathy," but I have always considered myself an empath (whether it's a word or not), so I'll give you Free's definition: to feel with another person. That's it. I love being an empath and I hate being an empath. I love that it can give you a joy that you might have missed out on. I hate that it also can hurt. It can pull you into and under the weight of someone else's misery. (Do I wish to lose my ability to empathize? Nope.  I don't think I could live without it. It is what Christians were taught by Christ. He came, not just to die for us, but to feel as we feel. But that's for me and my beliefs. You have your own to deal with.)

Love is defined all over the place, but is (for me, at least) still undefinable. The word itself comes from Latin for "to please." That makes sense. Love is what it is to each individual. "To please" me is different from pleasing the next or other person. (I really hope this is all making some sort of sense.)

I don't think it matters how we define anything as long as we keep the essence of what it means to care enough. I don't sympathize for, empathize with or love everyone. (There are moments when I can't stand myself.) But I do care. My mother taught me that.

Peace

--Free

Where I sit

So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great. (Job 2:13)


I have been listening some to the contending politicians. Some are doing a lot of talk about people in need. What they are saying is not very thoughtful or insightful  By that I mean that they are not thinking deeply about what they say and they are speaking on things into which they have little personal insight. How do I know this? Because I have said some of the same things in the same way.

Little did I know - back when I was pontificating on it - that poverty and need is not a stereotype. There is no stereotype for those conditions. There are stereotypes for actions and consequences, but not for conditions and circumstances.

I am black and female, on food stamps and medicaid. Sounds like a what some would call a stereotypical situation until you think more about how I got here and have some insight into how it affects me.

I was previously of a different "stereotype." A woman in a solid family, working in skilled fields of employment -  as a corporate trainer for a customs broker, then as a real estate clerk, then as a specialist in a state unemployment office. Yes, the irony. I owned an average home (nothing fancy, but not shabby, and in a very decent neighborhood), drove an average car, had the average "working stiff" lifestyle. I never considered myself as being financially poor, but realized that I was not upper middle-class or above and was content with that. I have no criminal history - in fact, I had a Homeland Security/FBI clearance for my brokerage employment - and my neighbors felt safe living near me. I was liked and respected.

That was about six years ago.

Understand, please, that living does not always go as we plan. Things happen that you don't expect to. Economies stumble, families lose members, hasty decisions turn out badly, people lie to each other. One thing leads to another - another same sort of thing, another good or better thing, or another bad or worse thing.

In my case, I have been led to where I lost a house, finances crashed badly, emotional health suffered, then physical health followed.

Here I am. Black. Female. On food stamps. On medical aid.

I am not a statistic or a stereotype. I am a person trying to heal and get back to a better place in life.

Please don't talk about me as if I have a color-coded, bar-scanned tag plastered across my forehead. Don't try to popularize your opinions - to win votes or friends or an argument around the office - by labeling my situation. You might be right here where I am someday. If not you then maybe your son, daughter or other loved one.

In the meantime, don't wait to be where I am to gain compassion.

I am taking action to get better and to get out of this situation. That's really all anyone else needs to care about.

Peace
--Free