The Cost of Compassion

"Compassion is the radicalism of our time" -The Dali Lama

A professor of mine recently said something that I believe will stick with me for a very long time. I was challenged to transform my judgment of others into curiosity. Then she went ahead and opened her heart so sincerely to me (and the class) sharing a story about a gentleman whose son had died, that she had met on a plane while she was  running away to India to escape the painful aftermath of a divorce.

The story reminded me of a quote that has reoccurred several times in my young adulthood; unfortunately, I don’t know who said it but it goes like this, “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always”. I think I liked his quote for many reasons. One being that I wish for that very compassion when I’m struggling, especially since I find confiding my weaknesses to be quite difficult as well as humbling.

Now, I recently put in some hours in as a poll clerk in the provincial election and was stationed with a pleasant middle-aged woman named Elle*. Her oldest daughter went to school with my little sister, so we hit it off quite well; coincidentally, the magazine she brought (in case I was anything like her last – much quieter – partner) went untouched. As time flew by, I started to feel that she was tentatively confiding in me. 
        Coincidentally, this story also has to do with airlines as well. Anyways, she spoke of adventures that never left her dreams to the realm of reality and various regrets about how and when she settled down to raise a family; wondering what would have happened if she didn't marry the pilot so soon into her stewardess career. She spoke of so many within-reach dreams as if they would never be realized and it made me sad. 
         It seemed that her unmotivated (not to say that he doesn't have his own back story too)  husband  seemed to be at the heart of her sadness (although she never out rightly said it), yet this beautiful woman’s heart shone with selflessness and understanding for not only the apathy of her husband, but for all the people in her family who had hurt her. I have often heard that it is easier to rise above and forgive when the other is understood, but that doesn't mean that the pain immediately goes away. With that said, it was interesting that I felt (only a small portion, I’m sure) her sadness almost as if it were my own.

In closing, I believe there is no cost for compassion. You don’t need to be cheap with it because it never runs out and doesn’t cost a thing. It’s too bad that (in my humbled opinion) our culture here seems to have it in such short supply.