I am shaking with cold, and sweating, at the same time. It makes it difficult to type, (particularly since I am a two-fingered typist to begin with).
I’m not ill, nor do I have the flu; it is a “fear” response. And what is it that is so frightening? The incredibly strong emotion of compassion, and the fear that it will consume me and leave me crumpled in a ball in a corner somewhere, sobbing uncontrollably, if I allow it to come forth. It goes against all of my conditioning, all of what I was raised to understand being a “man” was, to feel this way – and show it.
Just two days ago, I was speaking with a good friend, and often spiritual mentor, and I told him that, truthfully, I just wasn’t a compassionate person. I said that I wanted to be one, but I was the “wow, that’s a tough break” Buddha much more than I was the iconic image of the “Medicine Buddha” that I was holding in my hand. That was a lie.
No one has to “learn” how to be compassionate; it is already within. What must be learned is how to stop fighting its expression by our own selfishness.
As I sit here, in a public place, contemplating compassion, (and how I am not compassionate), a young boy was led in by his mother. I would guess his age to be around 8 or 9 years old. He is afflicted with some type of disorder…I believe it to be blindness, or near total blindness. I find that I am overcome with emotion to help him, and tears well up in my eyes. I quickly divert my attention and hope no one notices my “episode.”
He was with his mother, loved and cared for, but “healing” him was all that I wanted to do…and I was powerless. No healing “magic” flowed through me, or radiated from me, to alter his physical state in any way. Now that I think about it, maybe it was he who healed me…by pulling from me, and showing me, that I was, in fact, compassionate.
It’s laughable, really. I said that I was not a compassionate person, and it turns out that not only am I compassionate, but that my compassion is so strong that it is more than I can bear; it is greater than I can physically process. My empathy is a raging torrent that I have determined must be totally squelched in order to survive, in order to keep from being that “crumpled, sobbing ball” that I wrote of above.
How can one be the pure compassion of I AM, which we all are, and still function in a world that holds so much suffering? What a question to ponder.
The mind and ego warn that I would be totally “naked” to an advantage-seeking world if I were to allow these feelings to manifest. The world around me, in my mind, well…that sort of compassion is a minority. But isn’t that he point? Isn’t that why people wait at the feet of the Dalai Lama? Isn’t that why people were inexorably drawn to Jesus and the Buddha? Isn’t the idea to, one person at a time, have compassion and love be in the majority? Yes, that IS the whole point.
Today, what I shared here in this forum was very personal. I was going to hide it, and keep it safely hidden, but I have made it public instead…pulling my ego, kicking and screaming all the way. And I’m not shaking anymore.
Many Blessings To All…