Filter Coffee #244

On Being Empathic

Bengaluru

Preeta Narain’s guest post, “The Love Of A Dog”, was much appreciated. Here are some of the comments:

• Lakshmi Raman: “I enjoyed reading Preeta's 'Hymn to Doggies' along with my morning tea. It reminded me of the many expressions of man's (and woman's) best friend.”

• Amar Chintopanth: “Very well written. We always had dogs at home during my childhood. There was this one particular dachshund who would hear the fridge door open from wherever she was and come running, looking for her share! And it was a big house!”

• Shahji Jacob: “Very good read. Fondly remember the dogs I had. You only had to open the gate, and the dog would run up and down the 36 cents of land we had in those days, wagging its tail. The master’s happiness at seeing the dog pales in comparison with the happiness the dog has to see its master.”

• Vinod Karnik: “Interesting article! As a dog lover, so much can be written about one’s pets! Over the years, we had five of them, and each one was a member of the family. They are unique when it comes to love and loyalty! We no longer have one, but we always remember each one of them fondly. Enjoyed reading.”

Dear Readers, My wife and I returned from our Japan jaunt a few days back. We chose the Cherry Blossom season but were disappointed not to see them in Tokyo as many of the trees had shed the flowers in the rain and the cold wind. But we had a visual treat in Osaka, Kyoto, Hiroshima and Nara. Plenty of white, pale pink and pink flowers lit up the sunny days! Mt Fuji eluded us. It snowed heavily, and we could hardly see anything. As if to compensate, we went to Oshino Hakkai, a community which had eight springs, and we walked around and enjoyed the snow-clad trees and the surroundings. No, this is not going to be a travelogue. I just shared my experience. Before I get cracking on FC 244, let me confess that after looking at the cherry blossom flowers, I have begun to pause, look and admire the flowers on our roadside trees and in the parks. I wonder why I took them for granted and did not mindfully stop to admire them before.

💞 Being Empathic

Readers are aware of the difference between sympathy and empathy. Both are closely related but distinct emotions. When one feels sorry for someone, one can be sympathetic. Empathy involves understanding and sharing someone’s feelings. Sympathy is seen as an external expression of emotion, while empathy is an emotional response from deep within. I also feel that if you have not experienced a situation, you are more likely to be sympathetic, but if you have had experience with that situation, you are more likely to be empathetic. Resonance comes naturally when you can relate to the emotion that a person is experiencing.

You can sympathise or empathise even with someone unrelated to you, but with a related person, these play out at a higher level. If there is an emotional connection, one would likely empathise. Otherwise, one could just be sympathetic. The frequency with which we use ‘sympathetic’ is far greater than ‘empathetic’, as if it is pathetic.

If one chose to write to express one’s feelings, one might say ‘I sympathise’ or ‘I empathise’. But then, words are frail carriers of emotion, and they appear cliched. One can do better by calling that person. The words you utter get a tonality, creating an emotional connection.

Is there something that is at a level higher than empathy or empathetic? It would seem so. And the word is ‘empathic’. It is not disputed that sympathy & empathy are emotions that are felt in the context of dismal tidings but not on a happy occasion. To be empathic requires the person to feel or experience the same intensity of emotion that the empathised person feels. It is not uncommon for a lady to be empathic towards another lady who has lost someone. The depth of the grief is so profound that others may find themselves expressing grief with the same intensity.

An uncle of mine (a departed soul) would shed tears at the first sign of grief. He had no qualms about doing that. He was, in my opinion, very empathic. Many people may not shed tears but still be empathic. Interestingly, many among such people can be found shedding tears watching a heart-rending scene in a movie. They, too, are considered empathic because of their ability to resonate with the grief-stricken character on the screen. I have no qualms about admitting I, too, find my eyes going moist when watching a movie.

Some people are stoic, and some others are not given to display emotions. But such people are capable of being empathic with no outward sign of grief or anguish. That this internalisation is not ideal is another matter. Empathic implies a high level of emotional involvement.

If a student fails an examination or an athlete falls short of the finish line, the reaction comes in the form of criticism like “he did not work hard or train hard”. Empathic reaction is missing in such situations, and empathy is eclipsed by the high expectations that were had of the failed candidate.

Disdain is the antithesis of empathy and sympathy. But, contrast this with someone not passing a CA exam on the first attempt. Given the preponderance of first attempt failures, the person was not expected to pass on the first attempt, and so, he does not expect empathy.

The main reason for someone to be empathic is their ability to identify and acknowledge the emotions of others. They can step into their shoes and understand their feelings. Being empathic is to develop an emotional connection. At one level, this may be seen as compassion, but in an intense and traumatic situation, being empathic can drain the person emotionally.

Many like me make it a point to attend cremations and take it as the culmination of life if the departed soul has led a full life. But if the cremation is of a young child, particularly one lost in an ill-fated accident, the emotions are so intense that even I feel empathic and cannot hide my tears and feelings that tug at your heart. You have just read about the emotional connection humans have with dogs. If a dog that has been with the family for many years, giving its unconditional love, dies, the bereavement that the family feels is as intense as losing a kin, if not more. But I must say, from experience, you can feel sorry for that loss, but you cannot be empathic unless you too have experienced a similar loss.

Resonance is at the heart of empathy. It is not about condescending. That’s where one needs to differentiate sympathy from empathy. Sympathy is an expression of pity or compassion where you may feel sorry for someone or something but do nothing more. It is a dispassionate expression.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. To be empathic, one does not have to be with the person who is mourning or grief stricken. You may find yourself rueing the missed opportunity of meeting that person or choking with shared emotion while talking on the phone. There are some who are unable to express their feelings even when they are empathic. They may take refuge in texting a message but then it is a fact that all messages appear cliched due to their extensive use.

It is not uncommon to make a comparison of one’s own experience before empathising with someone. Like, ‘My loss has been far more profound than his’. If someone has been a victim of a scam and is reeling under the loss, in the absence of that experience, you may sympathise but not empathise.

Empathy is a remarkable quality but in a self-centered world, empathy is not a powerful attribute. There are short poems that extol the virtue of being empathic. Here is one.

Walk in their shoes,
Feel the weight they carry,
A glimpse of their journey,
Lends empathy its extraordinary.

And now, to end with a silly poem by Spike Milligan:

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

Thank you readers for your readership, without which FC would not have sustained its aroma.

Until next week, take care, be safe and be empathic if you get a chance. Ciao.