From a flower-filled cottage, some thoughts on empathy
Sophie's white rose from our longtime vet
My cottage is in bloom! AnEaster Lily, a small bouquet of roses tucked into an Easter bunny vase, a whiterose in a bed of baby’s breath, a plant new to me called Orange Star, withstalks of just-about-to-open orange buds. This is just part of the outpouring ofsupport I’ve gotten since I first posted about Sophie’s battle with diabetes—a shorttwo weeks ago, though it seems an eternity. The internet has been full of supportivemessages, a couple of friends have stopped by for hugs, others have called. Andso many have said to me that they too had to make that hard decision aboutbeloved family pets, and they understand what we have been going through. Forme, empathy has been the key word of the week.
My computer defines empathy asthe capacity to feel or understand what another person is experiencing. Inother words, I feel what you feel. And in this case, my many friends feel andshare my grief and sense of loss. Even before we saw that we were going to loseSophie, I’d been thinking about empathy, because I read a blog on that subject.
The U. S. Army psychologist assignedto watch and study the defendants at the Nuremburg Trials wrote that he becamevery interested in the nature of evil, and after the trials he believed thatthe one thing that bound those heartless criminals together was a lack of empathy.They were unable to feel the experiences of their fellow men. He concluded thatthe lack of empathy defines evil in a person. The blog continued with twoquotes from Reddit. One claimed that conservatives invent new derogatory wordsfor empathy about ever fifteen years: “politically correct,” “bleeding heart,”and, the most recent, “woke.” The absence of empathy, the writer claimed, is aprerequisite for conservative ideology.
The second quote points outthat the conservative point of view starts a lack of empathy, a viewpoint thatis formed in one’s earliest years and is almost impossible to change in lateryears. “Many conservatives are beyond redemption.”
Now that our country is sohorribly split, I think the lack of empathy in many conservative positions is clear.We know, from generally accepted accounts of trump’s childhood and the writingsof his niece, Mary Trump, that the ex-president was raised in what might bestbe called unhealthy situations. He was taught to disregard others early on,repeating the family pattern of corruption set by his grandfather and father. Theylived by takin advantage of others. There is no hope of changing him at thislate stage of life. So he sets a horrible example, and he made it publicly allright in his administration to lack empathy. Joe Biden, a man who stoops to helpa stuttering child or give a few dollars to a homeless man, a man who loves animals,is a man of empathy.
But it’s not just trump. Wesee that lack of empathy l around us—in the disregard for the lives of womenwith life-threatening pregnancies, the callous attitude toward immigrants atour southern border, even the willingness to stop free school lunch programs. Itis an “every man for himself” attitude that boggles my mind. I don’t think wecan dismiss it as politics. It is a moral issue, not political. For me, as afaithful Christian (not of the nationalism type(, it is a religious issue. If Ifollow in the steps of Jesus, I must recognize that his greatest command was tolove each other. But that morality is not limited to Christianity—the care forothers is found in all the world’s major religions, and—with a nod to criticsof religion—I must say I find the world better for that teaching.
Sometimes empathy is hard. Itmakes you draw a moral line. I saw a news clip of the perpetrators of theMoscow mass killing bring brought into court. They had obviously been beaten sobadly they could not walk upright and were dragged, and no matter how heinous theircrime, I felt for their agony at that moment. No, I didn’t want to rescue them,and I knew I was powerless, but at that moment I felt their experience. To me,that is empathy.
I cling to the Pollyanna-likebelief that most of the world is empathetic—there are good people out there whodon’t want to let children go hungry, or immigrants drown in a river full ofbarbed wire. I believe, to alter Faulkner’s words a bit, that the good peoplewill prevail. And this week, I’ve had a clear demonstration of that love. Ithas bolstered me, and as I keep saying, I’m grateful. And I’m okay. You knowthe thing that bothers me most? Looking at the empty spot where her crate was,where she loved to lie in her safe space.
Sweet dreams, everyone.
