empathy.
From the Heart
I've been thinking a lot about empathy lately.
What it is. What it isn't. What it means. What it looks like.
And how vastly different it seems to be from sympathy.
I think empathy bends down with a soft kindness. It's presence is powerful. It does not attempt to fix. It does not judge. It doesn't have all the answers. Empathy sits down next to you. In the dark. Or in the light. It picks up the load. Shares. Accepts.
Sympathy, on the other hand seems more aloof. A bit lofty. It has it's place. It's useful. I understand it's intent but it doesn't join hands with someone's pain. It doesn't draw near in the same way.
If I want to be a person who cares deeply. If I want to embrace brokenness. If I strive to live from the heart. Then my default can't be sympathy.
I must choose to get messy. To feel pain. To dive deep.
I must choose to show up.
As hard as it is. I must choose empathy.
For me, like most of us connection is born out of shared experiences. Happy and sad. Good and bad. Fun and mundane.
But it is in times of great sorrow, grief, and despair when the weight of darkness is upon my shoulders that empathy becomes a valued friend. Resilient. Ordinary. Kindhearted.
Empathy listens. Cries. Hugs. Laughs. Shares. Understands.
Empathy binds us together.
It is a generous gift.
Empathy confirms that I am not alone.
“Empathy is a choice, and it’s a vulnerable choice. In order to connect with you, I have to connect with something in myself that knows that feeling.”