6 Lessons When Curiosity Meets Compassion
“Love and compassion grow when we see that there are really no viable alternatives.”
– Joseph Goldstein
While my One Word of the Year is Curiosity, I change subwords every two weeks. Curiosity and Awe. Curiosity and Wisdom. Curiosity and Kindness, etc.
And these two weeks in November? It’s Curiosity and Compassion, which is especially curious to me because Compassion was its own Word of the Year for me ten years ago.
And it was one of my favorites.
Never assume your One Word is finished with you when the year is up. Words have a way of circling back around again and again.
What did I learn about Compassion ten years ago that I can carry alongside Curiosity these next two weeks? I looked back and reminded myself of these six lessons on compassion that are still applicable today.
1. PITY ISN’T THE SAME AS COMPASSION
I don’t know about you, but I hate feeling pitied. But I do appreciate someone showing me compassion. I’m curious about what the difference is exactly, and why one feels bad and the other feels good.
Perhaps it’s because compassion means accepting people’s pain as it is, whereas pity views a person as a project that needs fixing. Real compassion is one human being relating to another through love instead of through a hierarchy of helper over helpee.
2. COMPASSION CAN WRECK YOU
Some encounters bring both heartbreak and transformation. I still remember the pain of stepping into the deep poverty of families living in Guatemalan slums.
These moments remind me of what Jeff Goins wrote in Wrecked: “Our brokenheartedness at the injustices we witness is what gives us compassion. So when we rush past these messy and uncomfortable moments, we take away the experiences that teach us mercy.” I want to remain curious enough about people’s pain to risk being wrecked by what I find.
3. SOMETIMES COMPASSION IS QUIET
Compassion doesn’t always use words. It can be as subtle as wearing all black in solidarity with the grieving, making eye contact with the lonely, or choosing to sit at the table with those who feel invisible.
Quiet choices can speak loudly. Be curious about when to speak up and when to simply be present.
4. COMPASSION CAN BE SMALL
The more I see the needs for compassion, though, the more I see my own limits. With a friend facing homelessness, for example, her needs outstrip what I can give. I have to remind myself that doing something, anything, is still better than doing nothing.
Compassion is movement, even if it’s slow and steady. Curiosity is staying alert to any small step you can take in the right direction.
5. WE BEGIN AGAIN IN COMPASSION EVERY DAY
Every day is an invitation to start again in compassion. Sometimes I look at friends who are pros at showing compassion, and I feel so inadequate. I’m curious about how they do it and I want to learn from them.
Yet nobody is a complete expert in this. As we are each presented with unique opportunities, we can learn anew the best way to show compassion, again and again.
6. GIVE YOURSELF COMPASSION TOO
Perhaps the boldest lesson I’ve learned about compassion has been more recent than ten years ago. The past three years I’ve been working on giving myself compassion, too. Self-compassion doesn’t come naturally to those of us who were taught to only meet the needs of others instead of tending to our own needs as well. I’ve had to grow curious about why showing compassion to myself feels selfish, when it’s not.
The work of Kristin Neff is teaching me that we can be better givers of compassion to others if we’ve learned how to also give compassion to ourselves. Compassion isn’t a zero sum game; instead of depleting, it multiplies the more we practice it.
Compassion is a gift to both give and receive, creating a web of connections that extends to everyone around us, including ourselves.
I’m curious where I’ll see the need for compassion this week, and how I’ll learn to respond.
Share your thoughts in the comments.
Read more about compassion:
- When Compassion for Others Takes a Sharp Turn: A Lesson in Vulnerability
Our mother/daughter experience donating blood took an unexpected turn, reminding me of the value of vulnerability and the importance of compassion. - I’m Not Sure—Is That Compassionate?
Is being uncertain a path to compassion? Can admitting we don’t know open us to deeper connections? - What Can I Do? For Now, This Is My Something
My friend needs something I can’t give. What can I do? For now, this is my only something.
- The Power of Pairing Fiction and Nonfiction Books
- A Wake-Up Call We Better Not Ignore
I so appreciate your exploration of compassion and that we need to extend it to ourselves as we do to others. I know I’ve had many moments where compassion for another’s plight has reduced me to tears, too. But let’s not lose our sense and our need to feel for one another, ever. Blessings, Lisa!
“Let our hearts be stretched out in compassion toward others, for everyone is walking his or her own difficult path.” – Dieter F. Uchtdorf
Nice post, Lisa.
I see the need for compassion for less fortunate people with the Christmas and New Year holidays fast approaching. Thank you for your weekend coffee share.
There are great lessons in your post Lisa, especially compassion to yourself. Compassion can be exhausting especially if we take on the other person’s problems. It’s only recently that I have learnt that I can be compassionate without having to fix anything. #weekendcoffeeshare
Oh I love that you’ve added subwords to your word of the year, Lisa. I’m guessing it makes this word deeper, richer, and more significant for you. I admire that you continue with this so faithfully.
You’re so right about the need to give ourselves compassion. For if we can’t do that lavishly, it’ll be hard to give it to others. And in this season, we need to do both more than ever.
I worked through 12 Steps to a Compassionate Life by Karen Armstrong in 2015 and it turned out to be such a blessing for me in a tumultuous year.
You have so many good points here, Lisa. I especially love what you said about being curious and compassionate in the hard situations—the ones that “wreck” us. And also that we should extend compassion to ourselves. Honestly, I didn’t even think of the word in that context. I always think of it as an outward expression, but you’re totally right.
There was a chaplain at the hospital I work at and he gave a presentation on compassion. It was really interesting. He talked about the etymology and how it mean “to suffer with.” Compassion isn’t about solving something because it makes other people uncomfortable but rather just letting the bad thing just be…
Just based on my reading of this post, I would say that adding “compassion” to any other word would be both risky and also hugely formative.