When Compassion is Hard

Weekly wisdom to bring you home in two minutes.

A SHORT STORY

Many years ago, I had the chance to ask the Dalai Lama a question.

“Your Holiness,” I said, “our brains are very good at lying to us. So how does one know they are truly acting with good intention?”

He paused, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “When you can love your enemy, THAT is true compassion.” I can still hear how he emphasized the word that.

Looking back now, I realize he was pointing toward what essentially becomes the second Noble Truth of Buddhism. That there is a root cause to suffering. Or what might be called the truth of original suffering.

Lately, I have been carrying this story with me as I encounter people who feel difficult or mean. There is something about that sentiment that, when I cannot initially find my own compassion, invites me to quietly bow to something inside of them.

Maybe it is the wrinkles around their eyes. Maybe it is their fierce passion for what they believe in. Maybe it is the life they have lived, and the suffering they have already endured.

I am not perfect at this, and I am certainly nowhere near the Dalai Lama. But it does help me. And I hope it helps you this week, too.

Where might you practice a small, quiet bow this week?

A POEM

“Everyday Grace” by Stella Nesanvoich

It can happen like that:
meeting at the market,
buying tires amid the smell
of rubber, the grating sound
of jack hammers and drills,
anywhere we share stories,
and grace flows between us.
 
The tire center waiting room
becomes a healing place
as one speaks of her husband's
heart valve replacement, bedsores
from complications. A man
speaks of multiple surgeries,
notes his false appearance
as strong and healthy.
 
I share my sister's death
from breast cancer, her
youngest only seven.
A woman rises, gives
her name, Mrs. Henry,
then takes my hand.
Suddenly an ordinary day
becomes holy ground.

Grateful,

Michael