Yet when we talk about compassion and love for others, we must also talk about love for ourselves. This isn’t simply because opening ourselves up to others feels good (which it does). Rather, we need to think of the relationship between loving ourselves and loving others. Unless we remember to take care of our own needs and respect our own boundaries, we may end up feeling depleted, exhausted, and so burned out that we endanger our physical and psychological well-being.
Alas, this lesson is often overlooked. During a discussion following a recent talk I gave on compassion, Eileen raised her hand. Eileen, a second-grade teacher and single parent who is the primary caregiver for her ailing mother, described her constant feelings of guilt with a look of worry on her face. “There’s so much suffering in the world, I feel like I should be doing more all the time,” she began. “But between caring for my mom and my kids, and teaching all day, I just don’t have the time or energy.”
I was grateful to Eileen for sharing her concerns. So often, well-intentioned students interpret the teachings on compassion to mean that they must be helping others rigorously, 24-7, regardless of the toll that may take on them. But most of us, including me, are not saints, nor should we expect ourselves to be. We all have our limits. In order to avoid burnout and practice true compassion, it’s important to remember that we can only do what’s possible for us; when we strain to do more, we risk feeling resentful or making ourselves ill. What’s more, the capacity to give to others varies from person to person, depending on multiple factors, such as availability, energy, and resources. Ultimately, compassion has more to do with the attitude we bring to our encounters with other people than with any quantifiable metric of giving.
US VERSUS THEM
ALTHOUGH A GLOBAL society in which lovingkindness and compassion rule is a worthy aspiration, our common tendency is to see the people around us as “other,” fundamentally different from us. So often out of our fears, we find ourselves relating to particular individuals or entire groups of people with antipathy, prejudice, or just indifference.
In fact, a recent body of research shows that people with the most wealth and social status pay scant attention to those with less power. The haves tend to lack compassion for the hardships the have-nots endure. Writing in The New York Times, psychologist Daniel Goleman said, “Social distance makes it all the easier to focus on small differences between groups and to put a negative spin on the ways of others and a positive spin on our own.” But, he added, “In contrast, extensive interpersonal contact counteracts biases by letting people from hostile groups get to know one another as individuals and even friends.” This kind of camaraderie is far more common among people who live in proximity and, out of necessity, come to rely on one another.
Ultimately, there are a whole host of cultural assumptions that encourage us to act according to this mentality. For one, we live in a competitive, individualistic culture, where success is often seen as triumphing over others; alternatively, we think that repressing parts of ourselves that are culturally undesirable (such as emotional states like anger and anxiety) will lead to happiness. So rather than doing what social psychologist Jonathan Haidt refers to as stepping outside of our “moral matrix” and seeing ourselves as fundamentally related to everyone else, we think we have no choice but to meet anger with anger, or separate ourselves from others in order to feel a sense of freedom.
Of course, the opposite often becomes true. Seeing others as an objectified “them” makes us feel stuck. If we think of others in such a static way, we also keep ourselves from ever accessing a fresh perspective—a new way of relating to our experiences, to ourselves, and to them. Respecting differences while gaining insight into our essential connectedness, we can free ourselves from the impulse to rigidly categorize the world in terms of narrow boundaries and labels.
AN INTENTION TO STRETCH
THE FIRST STEP toward feeling compassion for others is to set the intention to try it out. Regardless of whether we have certain fears or feelings of aversion when considering this idea, we can relish the experience of exercising our minds and hearts. While we may be biologically wired to look for differences between ourselves and others, we can also accept that there is validity in experimenting with new habits, wisdom that results from encouraging ourselves to learn and expand.
This works for groups we may harbor resentment toward, as well as individuals. The process requires patience, though; opening our shuttered hearts has its own timetable. Often we may spend a while just going through the motions, feeling as if we’re getting nowhere fast. Yet with a clear intention and a willing spirit, sooner or later we experience the joy and freedom that arises when we recognize our common humanity with others and see that real love excludes no one.
There’s no need to begin this process with judgment or a harsh sense of discipline. I’ve had students tell me that they feel bad or inadequate upon realizing that love for others doesn’t spring forth from their hearts like water in a babbling brook. Finding this boundless love isn’t the result of a goal-oriented search, but a practice. We experiment with what it feels like to treat ourselves with kindness when we “succeed” as much as when we “fail.” We open our eyes to the suffering and joy of those we see in line for security in the airport as much as we do to our family members. We challenge ourselves to see that kindness is really at the core of what it means to be and feel alive.
None of this is easy. As I said, learning the practice of lovingkindness meditation for the first time challenged my emotional fabric in ways I didn’t expect. As I practiced offering phrases of lovingkindness to myself, then to benefactors and to acquaintances, to difficult people, and—finally—all beings, I began noticing just how much I was conditioned to entangle myself in judgments, assumptions, fears, and stories. This act of noticing itself is part of real love. We see that we can set the intention to stretch past these habits we’ve gotten used to—both internally and as the result of familial, circumstantial, and overarching societal factors. Not because we are doing something phony or because we are trying to force ourselves to be hypocritical or pretentious. We stretch because, as human beings with capacity for real love, we can. We learn to move and breathe in a new way, until we realize one day how much stronger we are.
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PRIMING THE PUMP
Healing yourself is connected with healing others.
—YOKO ONO
A FRIEND WHO SHOPS AT the same small grocery store as I do recently mentioned how shocked he was to realize that he never paid much attention to the woman who rings up his purchases day after day. “She might as well be a cash register with arms,” he said. He determined that the next time he went into the store, he would give the clerk his full attention.
He reported back a few days later. “The first thing I noticed was that she was singing along to something on the radio and that she has a beautiful voice. And when I told her that, she gave me a radiant smile.”
Listening to my friend, I realized that I, too, hardly noticed the woman—did she often look a bit sad? I began to imagine my next trip to the store: I’d tell her I’d heard she had a beautiful singing voice and make her day. But when I actually went in and looked for her, she was already smiling broadly.
Of course, not everyone we encounter in our everyday lives—whether it’s passersby at the grocery store or a colleague at work—will have a beautiful voice or a warm smile to convince us immediately to love others. But there is immense power in the act of showing up for life—in paying attention to other people, to experiences, sounds, and sights. Loving others, whoever they may be, is about seeing and recognizing the basic wish to be happy, in ourselves and in others. This wish to be happy is something we share, and simply acknowledging that is the foundation of real love.
OPPORTUNITIES AROUND EVERY CORNER
OFTEN WE’RE SO caught up in the stories playing out in our own minds that we miss precious opportunities to connect with others that would enrich our days, as well as theirs.
Sometimes we think of compassion as a gift—something we’re either born with or not—and/or that it’s something we have to work very hard to attain. But I think of compassion as the natural result of paying attention. Attention is the doorway to true compassion.
Yet attention is certainly not automatic—it takes intention and effort. Sometimes, we don’t even realize our own inattention until we start tuning into our lives with greater awareness. Only then can we see clearly and make more intentional choices about how to move forward with greater compassion.
My friend Jason tells a story about a sudden realization he had about the man who helps him tend his family’s garden. “We were grateful for his work but never really engaged with him beyond it,” Jason explains. “One day I accompanied him on a trip to the dump. As we drove, he informed me that he was going to be gone for a month. When I asked him where he was going, he told me that he was going to India to promote his book. It turned out that he was an author of spiritual books, that he studied as a young person in ashrams in India and the United States, and that we had several friends in common. I was embarrassed that I had failed to see him as a person. Here I was, writing and sharing about spirituality and love, while failing to see the person right in front of me who was doing the same. It was a great reminder for me to see people, not labels or preconceived judgments.” Jason’s writing and spiritual work are both built on his deep interest in learning about, understanding, and practicing love, compassion, and mindfulness. He was able to realize his lack of attention toward his family’s gardener by really tuning into his process of awareness. Recognizing our interdependence, the idea that we all count and deserve to be happy, is a practice—something every single one of us must do again and again.
We are all vulnerable to moments of forgetting—failing to see the intricacies of others, their virtues, interests, and other qualities. This typically has nothing to do with a deliberate lack of compassion; instead it’s related to the fact that we’re conditioned to keep to ourselves, to notice “strangers” only when they threaten or oppose us. Many of us find it easier to focus on problematic situations and troublesome relationships—a picture assembled with blinders on. We favor these blinders, though. We think blinders are the smart choice because we don’t want to be distracted by what is going well. It can feel foolish to our vigilant minds if we rest in reflecting that our friends and family are, for the most part, healthy, have homes, eat well, and are doing what they can to improve their lives. When we’re feeling low, it is especially hard to cast aside that problem-centric tunnel vision to find peace. At such times, paying attention to the good requires both intention and creativity, an interest in seeing things in a new way.
WHEN EFFORT IS EASY
PRACTICING KINDNESS DOESN’T require us to add extra items to our daily to-do list. It’s simply a matter of learning to be where we are at any given moment with an open heart. When we’re truly present, the occasions for expressing care and compassion emerge spontaneously. And, rather than adding more stress to our lives, they have a way of calming us—and everyone around us.
Paying attention helped my Irish friend Bart lighten a situation that could easily have become a travel nightmare. “I was on my way home to Ireland with three friends,” he recalls. “Our plane from the West Coast was delayed in Chicago, and we didn’t get to New York until after midnight. We had missed our connection, our luggage was nowhere to be found, and we were exhausted. But as bad as we looked—and we looked bad—I thought that the woman behind the airline service desk looked even worse.
“I had a banjo with me, and it occurred to me that it had probably been quite a while since this woman had been serenaded,” he says. “Seeing from her badge that her name was Irene, I broke into a rendition of ‘Good Night, Irene.’ My companions started singing along, as did some of her co-workers. By the time the song was over, Irene was beaming. She told us, ‘I am the best person in the whole company at finding luggage. Never fear, I will find yours!’ My friends and I went off happily to get some rest.”
Instead of becoming angry and lashing out at the airline representative, as many frustrated and weary travelers might have done, Bart’s awareness and sensitivity to others changed the emotional energy of the situation for all concerned. The result was relief and goodwill in the moment—not to mention the prompt return of the group’s missing luggage.
NO GESTURE IS TOO SMALL
WE HAVE COUNTLESS opportunities every day to practice random acts of kindness that express our common humanity: holding the door open for someone entering a building right behind us, giving up our seat on a bus to a mother with a small child, making friendly eye contact with the receptionist at a doctor’s office. A simple smile exchanged with the driver in the lane next to ours can make sitting in rush-hour traffic less onerous. Stopping to help someone in need to cross the street instead of racing to our next destination is a way to acknowledge that, at times, we are all vulnerable.
Such small, seemingly insignificant offerings can make a big difference in people’s lives, including our own. Scientific studies have shown that acts of kindness and generosity are linked to greater life satisfaction and stronger relationships, as well as to better physical and mental health. “People who engage in kind acts become happier over time,” says Sonja Lyubomirsky, Ph.D., a psychology professor at the University of California–Riverside and author of The How of Happiness. “When you’re kind to others, you feel good as a person—more moral, optimistic, and positive,” she says.
She also assures us, “No particular talent, measure of time, or amount of money is required. The deed need not be grand or complicated. Moreover, if you’re ever at a loss about what act of kindness, generosity, or charity to carry out, you need to look no farther than your home, your workplace, or your community.”
My student Chloe told me a story about a time she was unable to stop crying in a crowded subway car, en route to midtown Manhattan. Chloe was visiting New York City and was in the midst of going through a devastating breakup from a five-year relationship. It was rush hour, and Chloe was riding uptown to meet her mother, who was also in town for the weekend. The subway was densely packed, and people on board were palpably grouchy from a long day of work and the humid, crowded train. Chloe was embarrassed—even ashamed—about her public emotional display. And yet when she got off the train, a quiet woman sitting by the door offered her a tissue and a gentle smile. “It changed my entire mood,” she told me.
Often, it seems that we reach out to those we don’t know with kindness when we are able to see their vulnerability come to the surface. Growing up, we’re not taught that it’s socially acceptable to disclose emotional information to others—and yet sometimes a tear streams down your cheek in the subway or at work. I’ve found that situations like these help catalyze compassion in others—which can be a helpful reminder of our shared humanity, no matter how isolated and infrequent they may be.
REAL LOVE WELCOMES CONFLICT
MORE OFTEN THAN not, however, we find ourselves confronted by other people who remind us how difficult it can be to feel a sense of universal love. Even when people who challenge or oppose us aren’t out to hurt us or threaten us directly, they can still make us feel attacked, criticized, and combative rather than calm. After all, we’re conditioned to regard self-defense as virtuous. Responding with kindness to tough everyday situations—from the person who cuts you off in line to the competitive co-worker—doesn’t quite feel like the most reasonable answer. And yet situations of conflict can be the greatest opportunity to tap into a more universal feeling of love.
Evelyn, a pharmacist, tells the story of an irascible customer, a Mr. Smith, whose abusive outbursts she dreaded. “It got to the point where I heard myself say, ‘I hate him,’” she recalls. “I was disturbed that such strong feelings were being triggered, so I decided I had to send him lovingkindness. This became my practice for several months. When he came in ranting, I was respectful and tried to hol
d the space for him to be heard. It came to my attention that he was an alcoholic and living in his car. There was definitely compassion growing in my heart, but here’s how I really learned the power of lovingkindness.
“It was Mother’s Day, and I was running into my local CVS to buy a card for my mother. I saw Mr. Smith in the parking lot and, worst of all, he saw me. He came over to talk and said he would be waiting for me to come out. What did he want? It was my day off. I saw him in the store and started slinking around so he wouldn’t see me. I was stalling, hoping he would just go away. Finally, I had to leave.
“He found me as I was walking to my car, and he reached out to give me a box of Russell Stover chocolates and wish me a happy Mother’s Day. I was shocked. I wanted to say, ‘No, you can’t afford this. You can’t spend your last few dollars on me.’ But I knew that if I refused his generosity, I’d be committing the greatest insult to his humanity, so I accepted the gift and thanked him.
“To this day, whenever I think of this exchange, my eyes fill up with tears. This is how I came to understand the true meaning of lovingkindness, which is meant to open our hearts. When our hearts are open, there’s space for everyone and everything. My encounter with Mr. Smith made me feel that any one of us could be living in our car. I was no longer separate from him. I could relate to him as an equal human being, and I felt an interconnectedness with others that I had never felt before.”
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