Sowers of Seeds, Sharers of Compassion

I used to believe that it was the role of every compassion filled word, every compassionate act, to trigger a resolution to suffering. That the pain the other was feeling would be greatly diminished and suffering would dissipate based upon my reaction to their suffering. That being a healer meant my words and actions would vanquish the wounds of another. I was wrong.

The deeper that I wade into the spring of compassion, the more I realize the fallacy of this belief. Instead of alleviating suffering, my actions potentially push suffering underground where it patiently waits to resurface. When least expected, the suffering bursts through the cracks of the present moment and taints the here and now. 

Unresolved suffering never leaves us.  It is a patient companion that silently walks with us until we look it in the eye, acknowledge it, befriend it. In order for suffering to be alleviated, we must bring it into the light of day and listen to its anguished voice. And, in response we gently blow compassionate awareness into its woundedness.

Compassion asks that we alleviate not enable — that we curb our inclination to offer suggestions and make quick fixes. We recognize that the first, and most important, act of compassion is to listen. Our only agenda is to hear the suffering present in the words, body language, and inflection of another. We listen to be compassion’s presence while not assuming that we know or can empathize with the other’s experience. We listen in order to understand how we can bear witness to the suffering of another.

Our compassionate essence assures us that we will not be unaffected by the plight of another. As we listen, we are mindful of how sharing experience of another impacts us. Perhaps we feel the suffering in our body or take on the emotions of another. As we listen, we discern what is the others and what emotions and thoughts are triggered in our self. We breath through those things that are not ours and release them.

Through intentional listening we find the most fertile soil in which to plant our seeds of compassion. Instead of burrowing our seeds deeply into this space, we toss them into the wind of suffering trusting that they land exactly where compassion is most needed. We are not the directors of compassion, we are assistant gardeners who share compassion with another. The master gardener who suffers tends the soil so that it bursts forth with the fruits of compassion.

Sowers of seeds, sharers of compassion we listen, form our questions, listen again, and respond in loving ways. This is how compassion calls me, calls you, calls us. And, in this listening to our self and others, we acknowledge the anguish that comes from our inability to fix. We breath through and release the arrogance that lies at the roots of our anguish.

We are mindfully aware that compassion begins as a seed in our own garden. Compassion turned inward fertilizes our garden. We use the seeds we harvest from our own garden to alleviate the suffering of another. Through self compassion, we grow into master of our own gardens who guides others in bringing forth the fruits of compassion in his/her garden.

Vanessa

Vanessa F. Hurst is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who interweaves her inner wisdom in all she touches. Contact Vanessa

Her books are A Constellation of Connections: Contemplative Relationships and Engaging Compassion Through Intent & Action.

More from Vanessa: www.intentandaction.com