Monday morning thoughts on empathy--a personal exploration
by Bill

This will take a few minutes to read. Give yourself that time or save it for later when you have that time or not. It's just a few thoughts I've had--not earth shaking or anything.

As those of you know who were at our Saturday group meeting, I came very late, having gone to Edwin's house and finding his door locked (not thinking that Joanie might be there--hence not knocking) before I clued into that the meeting was at Kathy's--duh!

So, the only way I could find Kathy's house--I vaguely remembered where it it was but not the street and not the number) was to drive all the way back home, boot up my laptop and do a search for Kathy's e-mail in which she had given directions. This took a couple of different searches. I scribbled the info in a scrap of paper and headed out--looking for the Barrett Exit off I-80 (not knowing at the time that there is no such Exit going North on I-80). When I saw San Pablo Dam Road Exit sign, I figured I had missed the turnoff and took the Solano Street Exit and headed back South on the city streets--following the El Cerrito Bike Path signs and suddenly I saw Barrett Street! I was at Kathy's in two minutes, then, but forty-five minutes late.

I joined the circle.

I joined the circle, feeling glad to have finally made it but feeing a bit the outsider, having missed whatever I had missed—the words shared, the laughs, the looks, the spirit of the moment--and not liking that at all—believing, as I do, that group experiences are organic wholes and knowing that for the last two meetings I had had to leave early because of conflicting poetry events and not liking that at all, being the kind of person I am—that is, believing commitment and showing up is the fundamental or certainly a fundamental value. Everything starts with showing up.

Check-ins were going on and the open chair that was there for me was front and center, sitting out and exposed feeling. I couldn't slide it back against the wall since there was a bookcase or something behind me. Chris was on my left down low on a cushion and Lowell was on my right, lower, too, on a foot stool and leaning back against the open front door. There was an opening on the sofa, across the room behind the coffee table but I was not wanting to disrupt any more with my lateness by walking across the room between everyone—I hate lateness, a hatred that once nearly cost me my life—but that's another story.

So there I am feeling exposed a bit and trying to arrive and tune in to the sharings. I remember Joanie was sharing when I arrived but I don't remember exactly the sequence that followed. I do remember the moment of confusion when we were done with check-ins and ready to move on and I had not yet checked in. Someone mentioned that—maybe said, "He hasn't checked-in yet." Kathy thought the "he" referred to Edwin and turned to Edwin and Edwin said he had already checked-in and more or less simultaneously I spoke up and someone else did too or maybe several folks did. I don't recall. I even made a comment about being invisible, I think—a throw away line—not a real sharing of myself—throw away lines, being a way of separating one's self from feelings, I think.

So I did my check-in which I don't remember very clearly—but I don't think I expressed any of these feelings I'm now sharing—and it is an interesting and open question as to why not and how my inability to be present with myself in that way and share that with you all effected the rest of the experience—both my own and yours. Certainly, certainly had I been able to be in touch and vulnerable I would have been heard, seen and held by you all. I have no doubt of that. I feel our group is a safe place, a holding place.

But I was not able to go there for whatever reason and deprived myself and you of that experience—hence this e-mail sharing—to bring it into the circle a little bit late, to make it a part of our common experience.

Let me go on.

Unable as I was to arrive, unable to do a "Leon"—that ability that Chris reflected on later in the afternoon--that taking of a moment to center, to feel myself, to discover truly where I was—unable to do that I remained in that "outsider" place—not a 100%, of course—I was there, I did participate but I was not with myself.

A bit later when we were brainstorming questions for Edwin and Joanie and Wendy to take to the Democratic Convention in Sacramento—I was reminded of the This American Life story I had just heard on my way over—the story of racial attitudes among labor union members in Pennsylvania during the late days of the election campaign. I shared that story—not very well—certainly, not well enough for the connection that had occurred in my mind to be evident to the group or at least evident to Lowell. She pointed that out with her observation or her question—I can't remember which. I felt chastened and covered those feelings with a self-deprecating, laughing comment—something like, "Well, I'm sure there was a connection to what Edwin was saying but I just can't remember it now."

So the cascading effects of not taking time to be with myself continued and manifested in both my efforts to participate (unable to clearly articulate a connection and make, then, a meaningful contribution to moving the conversation) and my on going feelings of not being "with" everyone—not being on the same page—being in some partial sense the "outsider"—the truth of which was made clear to me by Lowell's observation. This is not a criticism of Lowell.

When I first joined our group, Lowell was gone on her trip to India. It was evident to me by the references to her during our meetings that she had a significant presence in the group. When she first rejoined the group after her trip, I had to leave early, and the next week I think she was sick and missed the meeting. So this was just our second time together in the group. We had not had the opportunity to connect much. I had heard her check-in that first time about her trip—that's about it and I don't have much of a sense of what I shared that day that she may have picked up on. So, our lack of connection, certainly played a part, a sizable part, I imagine, in my feelings of being chastened—called to task—admonished to stay focused on the question at hand. I'm not saying it was done in an unkind way. I'm talking more about my internal process.

So what has all this got to do with empathy?

First of all, empathy, like charity begins at home, which is to say, if I am unable to be empathic with myself, I will be unable to be empathic with another. To be empathic with myself is to first of all be in touch with myself, to know what I am feeling at any given moment and to accept that that is what I am feeling and to stay open to exploring and understanding the origins of my feelings. If I am there with myself, then I will likewise be open to being there with another. So not being there, the possibility of "feeling with" Lowell, feeling and understanding her concern for the time constraints we were under, her desire to stay on track, to stay focused, was compromised—I heard it but I felt it from an unconnected place and used it then as a confirmation of the feelings I was already having—of being "out of it", the "outsider."

Later on, I heard from Lowell an expression of that same concern when we were talking about how to establish protocols of communication within our group that would allow for consensus, for decision making while avoiding "group think" or the Abilene Paradox. She expressed quite directly her concern that check-ins in the midst of group meetings can be disruptive and perhaps take the group in a whole new direction away from the original or stated purpose. By that time in the meeting, after we had done our collaborative inquiry and drawing about the Abilene Paradox, I think, I was more able to hear that as a real concern of hers, though I was still in the space of having begun where I began and it has taken me a couple of days almost to articulate this. But the few moments I describe her stayed with me, asking to be looked at.

So I share with you my "lookings" at myself within our group process as we search for definitions of empathy and how we can reduce the empathy deficit within ourselves, within our group and within all our interactions in the broader world—bringing this essential peaceful concept to a more central and conscious place in ourselves and in our world.

Bill