I Express Myself Through Writing
On Being Empathic
I believe, confidently, that everyone is an empath to some degree or another. My earliest memories as a young boy exploring and fishing the swamps of Louisiana are of..... noticing. Noticing the way the cypress trees wave in the breeze as if trying in vain to shake of the beards of Spanish Moss. I would sit at the edge of this little bayou, leaning against a tree. I would be still. The bullfrogs would bellow as if laying claim. The occasional rat-a-tat-tat of a red headed woodpecker would resonate from near. A bass would swirl and occasionally jump making a splashing sound. Little water bugs would swim in circles making tiny little ripples that would radiate out in swirling concentric patterns.
Crickets would play their sleepy symphony with no need for applause or ovation. A squirrel would bark angrily at a peer who had encroached to close to its treasure trove of acorns. A whippoorwill would make its sad beckoning call.
As I sat there.. As a child... I sensed that I am part of something bigger. That the sights and sounds around me buzzed with a quantum connectedness, of which I was a part. Although I knew nothing then of quantum physics, and had few eloquent words at my disposal, I knew that I wasn't just hearing and seeing and smelling the things around me... I KNEW that I was connected to them all in a supernatural way that was beyond my ability to grasp.
I have spent many years studying quantum physics, astrophysics, and higher math in this relentless pursuit of knowing more.
But there is something to be said for those
carefree summer days long ago, when without knowledge... I simply knew.
I believe some might call it faith. This revelation has caused me to begin to understand, as a forty something year old man that true faith often might come from an intuition that isn't taught. When most of my friends at the time were wanting to talk about TV or mundane things, often I was sitting alone in the wilderness feeling.... I could almost feel a hidden buzz of energy below the surface that alluded to a connectivity that is still to date not faintly understood.
I have always been an absorber of energy. When I watch terrible things on TV, or read on here of someone's pain I not only sympathize.. I grieve. This happens to me daily.
Not long ago I was pushing a cart in the grocery store and passed a woman and her son. They were both unclean, and as I passed I noticed that all the woman had in her cart was flour, butter and rice. In her hand she held a crumpled 10 dollar bill and coupons. Coming from abject poverty myself, instantly I knew that this poor woman was trying to figure out how to make her 10 feed her family for a week.
My heart fractured and I instantly felt her pain, her sadness, her anxiety, and hopelessness.
I went to the ATM and withdrew 100.00. I had every intention of giving it to her. I found her a few isles over and as I passed I felt nervous..... Worried that my gift was a terrible idea and would insult her or make her feel bad. I passed by her and continued walking having done nothing.
I regrouped trying to think of a way to make the handoff of the 100 without hurting her pride. I circled around and tried again. This time she was stopped looking at different tomato sauce prices.
I slid the folded 5 20.00 bills into my left hand and as I passed her and her son who was wearing ill-fitting dirty clothes with holes in his shoes, I let the cash fall to the floor right next to her cart. I stopped and said "excuse me Miss, you must have dropped this". I picked up the money off the floor next to her cart and handed it to her. As she took it from my hand, she held on to my hand an extra second. When she looked in my eyes there was a moment... A moment where a sister and brother connected. Her eyes spoke volumes ...as if to say thank you, I love you, and I so desperately needed this gift. Her face telegraphed her appreciation at having her dignity respected.
I was so moved by the moment that I left my cart on the end of the aisle and hurried to my car where this former soldier, drill sergeant, bounty hunter and general all around tough guy... cried.
I tell you this not as a way to illuminate a good deed. But to share with you these parting thoughts.
Empathy is a beautiful thing. It comes in many forms and often doesn't require an interaction between to people. At least one that is obvious. Empathy while a gift, also is painful for the empath. In spite of our own traumas, betrayals, heartbreak, and sadness.... We absorb these things from others as well. But we also share and absorb joy, love and beauty. I think that's why we are often complicated people and why like me, so many of us struggle with depression.
Patrick
I believe, confidently, that everyone is an empath to some degree or another. My earliest memories as a young boy exploring and fishing the swamps of Louisiana are of..... noticing. Noticing the way the cypress trees wave in the breeze as if trying in vain to shake of the beards of Spanish Moss. I would sit at the edge of this little bayou, leaning against a tree. I would be still. The bullfrogs would bellow as if laying claim. The occasional rat-a-tat-tat of a red headed woodpecker would resonate from near. A bass would swirl and occasionally jump making a splashing sound. Little water bugs would swim in circles making tiny little ripples that would radiate out in swirling concentric patterns.
Crickets would play their sleepy symphony with no need for applause or ovation. A squirrel would bark angrily at a peer who had encroached to close to its treasure trove of acorns. A whippoorwill would make its sad beckoning call.
As I sat there.. As a child... I sensed that I am part of something bigger. That the sights and sounds around me buzzed with a quantum connectedness, of which I was a part. Although I knew nothing then of quantum physics, and had few eloquent words at my disposal, I knew that I wasn't just hearing and seeing and smelling the things around me... I KNEW that I was connected to them all in a supernatural way that was beyond my ability to grasp.
I have spent many years studying quantum physics, astrophysics, and higher math in this relentless pursuit of knowing more.
But there is something to be said for those
carefree summer days long ago, when without knowledge... I simply knew.
I believe some might call it faith. This revelation has caused me to begin to understand, as a forty something year old man that true faith often might come from an intuition that isn't taught. When most of my friends at the time were wanting to talk about TV or mundane things, often I was sitting alone in the wilderness feeling.... I could almost feel a hidden buzz of energy below the surface that alluded to a connectivity that is still to date not faintly understood.
I have always been an absorber of energy. When I watch terrible things on TV, or read on here of someone's pain I not only sympathize.. I grieve. This happens to me daily.
Not long ago I was pushing a cart in the grocery store and passed a woman and her son. They were both unclean, and as I passed I noticed that all the woman had in her cart was flour, butter and rice. In her hand she held a crumpled 10 dollar bill and coupons. Coming from abject poverty myself, instantly I knew that this poor woman was trying to figure out how to make her 10 feed her family for a week.
My heart fractured and I instantly felt her pain, her sadness, her anxiety, and hopelessness.
I went to the ATM and withdrew 100.00. I had every intention of giving it to her. I found her a few isles over and as I passed I felt nervous..... Worried that my gift was a terrible idea and would insult her or make her feel bad. I passed by her and continued walking having done nothing.
I regrouped trying to think of a way to make the handoff of the 100 without hurting her pride. I circled around and tried again. This time she was stopped looking at different tomato sauce prices.
I slid the folded 5 20.00 bills into my left hand and as I passed her and her son who was wearing ill-fitting dirty clothes with holes in his shoes, I let the cash fall to the floor right next to her cart. I stopped and said "excuse me Miss, you must have dropped this". I picked up the money off the floor next to her cart and handed it to her. As she took it from my hand, she held on to my hand an extra second. When she looked in my eyes there was a moment... A moment where a sister and brother connected. Her eyes spoke volumes ...as if to say thank you, I love you, and I so desperately needed this gift. Her face telegraphed her appreciation at having her dignity respected.
I was so moved by the moment that I left my cart on the end of the aisle and hurried to my car where this former soldier, drill sergeant, bounty hunter and general all around tough guy... cried.
I tell you this not as a way to illuminate a good deed. But to share with you these parting thoughts.
Empathy is a beautiful thing. It comes in many forms and often doesn't require an interaction between to people. At least one that is obvious. Empathy while a gift, also is painful for the empath. In spite of our own traumas, betrayals, heartbreak, and sadness.... We absorb these things from others as well. But we also share and absorb joy, love and beauty. I think that's why we are often complicated people and why like me, so many of us struggle with depression.
Patrick
51-55, M
