The Empathy Exercises
I'm learning I can be kind to myself by being kind to others, in a roundabout way.
One of the most striking things about getting to know other people with mental health illnesses is how the level of empathy is seemingly so much higher than average. It’s been impossible for me to not think of empathy on a regular basis over the past 18 months as I’ve received the love and kindness of people I barely knew and who are stuck deep in their own fights.
The people I met at McLean, the people who send me notes and share their stories after reading something here, and the people in my support group all tie for second behind my seven-year-old as the most empathetic people I know.
It’s almost like because we can’t show empathy for ourselves, we throw as much as we can into the world, hoping some will come back to us.
For me, empathy has not always come easily, so I’ve been making a conscious effort over the past several years to be more accepting. I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to really understand people with a different point of view — a point of view that I want to dismiss out of hand as ignorant, unfathomable and, well, stupid. It’s escalated right along with the rise of the divisive political climate in the U.S., although correlation may not mean causation in this case.
Because as much as we like to think of ourselves as independent thinkers, so much of how we view the world is out of our control: where and who we grew up with, where and how we were educated, the good and bad luck life has thrown at us, and so many other factors build how we think and how we view the world. Reminding myself of this has made me a better writer, professor (when I was still teaching), and father.
It’s not a matter of changing minds. Someone entrenched in opposing beliefs on guns, abortion, immigration, MAGA, the environment, and all the other issues dividing us as a society has heard and already rejected any argument I could come up with, just as I’m entrenched in my world view of what is right, wrong, and somewhere in between.
Empathy is not about embracing or even mildly agreeing with someone. It’s really about trying to understand their point of view. It’s accepting this person’s point of view has been shaped by a lifetime of experiences that, surface similarities aside, would be unimaginable to you. At its best, it helps you find some common ground with another person and build from there. But in a tweet-first-ask questions-later world, it’s getting harder to do.
Part of the problem is we now use “acceptance” (consenting to receive something offered) as a synonym of “approval” (believing someone or something is good). We don’t dare accept someone else’s point of view, or else we may be seen as approving it.
But acceptance is not approval: it’s understanding someone else has the same right to their beliefs as you do to yours. That’s tough, but it’s an ideal I’ve felt is worth at least trying to adopt.
I spent 11 days as an inpatient and 10 days as an outpatient at McLean Psychiatric Hospital last month, where I was exposed to sections of western medicine that borrowed heavily from eastern religions. Mindfulness, presence, and deep breathing are now a big part of the toolkit I use to fight my vicious mood swings, along with the non-homeopathic and very Western pharmaceuticals.
There’s a simple Buddhist exercise that can help build empathy. Go people watching and focus on a random person. Note their differences and similarities to you without judgement. Just state the facts that you can visibly observe.
And then remind yourself they are just like you in that they want to be loved, they want to feel safe, and they want to find happiness whenever and wherever they can. They feel just as mortal as you do.
Can you do that for the person who cuts you off in traffic? Can you do that for the person who cuts you off in traffic that has a bumper sticker for the Presidential candidate you think is Satanic? Could you do that for the Presidential candidate you think is Satanic?
Like any good Buddhist mindfulness exercise, it’s not supposed to be easy.
And hardest of all, at least for me and almost everyone else I’ve met in the fight, is showing that to ourselves. I know so many people who would answer the middle-of-the-night phone call but wouldn’t dare make thinking they would be “bugging” someone who could help.
And this is where the exercise leads to self empathy. If I can show empathy for the jagoff with Connecticut plates in front of me who thinks it’s okay to do the speed limit in the passing lane, why can’t I show empathy to myself?
Like I said, it’s not supposed to be easy.