Compassion. If you grew up in a Christian home you’ve likely heard stories of compassion exemplified by Jesus. If you’re familiar with Buddhism you may have learned that compassion is the ability to see true suffering and to offer an open gift to those in need. In Hinduism it’s commonly taught that all life forms are seen as a manifestation of god, and therefore, extending compassion to all is seen as honoring that entity. A large part of Confucius’ teaching revolved around what he called ren, also known as compassion or loving others.

Lately compassion has been “up” for me. I have long thought of myself as a compassionate person. Yet somewhere along the way I think it got lost. Perhaps this happened when I became preoccupied with justice; growing tired of offering compassion to those who would hurt me over and over; wrestling with my feelings and fear of being taken advantage of. However it happened, I had slowly begun to close my heart, and where I was once soft and compassionate, I had grown hard and closed off the stream of freely giving I had once so happily played in.

For me compassion seems like a simple concept - see the other in need, freely give toward their suffering, expect nothing in return. So then, why had offering compassion, especially to those closest to me, become so difficult? As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I had begun to expect something in return for my compassion. Researching all the major religions we would be hard pressed to find one that didn’t explicitly say selflessness is required for true compassion. Buddhism goes as far as to say that compassion should not be based on feeling, but instead “knowing one is part of a greater whole and we are all interdependent and connected to that whole” (Goetz, 2004). Since the very foundation of compassion is giving to the other without expecting anything in return, my need for justice and reciprocation made my offering compassion to another absolutely impossible.

It’s actually quite funny to type that or think of myself in this way because on one hand I am very compassionate. Give me a stranger in need and I’m all over that shit. However, I found it more difficult to play out in relationship with those closest to me. My expectation of how the other should behave toward me completely negated any amount of compassion I could possibly send their direction. This is an example of why I feel it is most difficult to show up as the human we want to be in relationships closest to us. In my experience these containers often challenge us on deeper levels than casual interactions. This is perhaps because of the sustained level of interaction we enter into with those closest to us. We share the most intimate parts of ourselves with our partners, children, etc... Or maybe we exude an astronomical amount of effort struggling to keep our true selves hidden in these relationships… We see the juxtaposition everywhere, and are sometimes subconsciously keeping score of who did what when, which can blind us from simply seeing the need of the soul, both theirs and ours, compassion.

Another thing about compassion, many teachings express that we must be able to offer it to ourselves in order to offer it to another. Pema Chodron said “in order to have compassion for others, we have to have compassion for ourselves.” We often avoid our own suffering rather than to look at it, make space for it, and truly acknowledge our pain. By doing this, we negate our own need for love and compassion which often leads us to disconnect from the pain and suffering of the other, their need for love and compassion as well.

An ancient practice called Tonglen can help us with that. This practice is a meditation that focuses on suffering, both our own and that of the other. It may seem counterintuitive to purposely focus on suffering during a meditation, however by doing so we begin to dismantle our fears and stories about what suffering means, and open our heartspace to the possibility of healing and love. For this reason, Tonglen is a method for awakening the inherent compassion we all possess (Chodron). To cultivate this practice sit quietly and think of the suffering of another (or your own suffering). Feel what that suffering feels like and name it if you can (if you can’t don’t worry, the feeling is enough). As your breathe in, intentionally take in the suffering of yourself or the other (remember, taking in anyone’s suffering is representative of taking in the suffering of all because we are all connected). Then, as you breathe out extend whatever feeling or action you feel would end the pain, offering it to all. Repeat for several breaths or as long as you feel compelled. Throughout this practice you may notice that you begin to see the suffering differently and are creating space for it to transform.

For me, this seeing of my own proliferation toward dis-compassion was brought on by an event where I unobstructedly saw deep pain in the other. As I was suddenly shown their pain, clearly now, without the layers we all tend to hide under, I was catapulted toward compassion. I could see the need of the other without the lens of justice I had previously been using to view our relationship. I wanted to swaddle them in a cozy blanket and hold a cup of hot tea for sipping. I wanted to offer myself, my gifts, my grace and love, as a conduit for their healing. I could suddenly see that compassion had nothing to do with me.

I did not deserve a thank you or fair treatment in return. I had no expectation. A hope, yes, that the compassion offered would be received by the other. A just outcome, that was not for me to decide. While I have hope that my offering, my showing up, my love, would create space for growth and healing, I can not be attached to it. The human in me finds that part quite scary, the god in me does not. All in good time. This I know. So, I will show up, wait, and offer as I am being led. I will continue to practice compassion. Yes practice, as in an action that requires repetition in hopes of mastery and at least as a form of maintenance or improvement. This walk with compassion won’t always be “easy” or come naturally (although maybe with practice it can?), so I commit to it. I yield myself to seeing the god in all things and supporting the evolution of kindness on this planet and I hope that you will too.

Namaste.