Empathy

Photo by Michael Watson, Dallas, Texas

by Karen Hoffman

I never told anyone this before.

Once, I sat with a person; she looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t care. That’s the thing about you and me - you have all this empathy and I get by with none.” It shook me to my core. I didn’t know how to respond. So, I didn’t. Years later, I see how much I prefer the self-awareness that I may be overly empathetic rather than not feeling anything toward others in my life. It’s a funny thing about human beings.

Some can hurt others and not even feel badly about it. Trampling through a garden once rich with vibrant flowers and powerful aromas, they leave it squashed, the garden empty of the beauty that was.

That same person can blaze a path of such fiery pain that It leaves an indelible scar on the other.

Not noticing.

Not caring.

Not moved to make things right.

The scarred person travels through life, growing from the experience yet never able to shed the totality of pain.

Through years of looking, listening, thinking, writing and sharing, there is healing.

To be an empath is to feel.

And as each tear sheds and finds its way down a cheek, the heart cracks open a little more, moving to a place where the beauty has been hidden.

There is both beauty and pain that remains Long after the scar is barely noticeable.

Wear the scars.

Own the scars.

They often remind us of the beauty within, protected by a layer of resilience and growth.

Healing is like that – never returning to the garden that was. Yet planting a new one that thrives and blossoms in new tones of vibrant hues. The beauty that remains is in the empathy. And lessons learned through the journey.

Empathy was written by Karen Hoffman and originally published in House of Healing, a publication of Retreat House Spirituality Center. Purchase a copy.