I woke up in the middle of the night last night to go to the bathroom. Looking out the window, I saw the face of suffering and loneliness: A single light shining in the house of a neighbor whose husband died two weeks ago.
I know I'm gonna sound like a wise-ass, but you have just as much right to complain as she has to grieve. Everything is relative. I don't know this woman at all, and I knew her husband only to wave to him and exchange an occasional greeting, but there was something about that pitch-dark house in the pitch-dark of night and that single bulb burning that really got to me. I was half-awake, but I kept saying to myself, "Remember this, remember this."
I don't really know what to say about this amazing post. It touched my heart. Thanks Michael. As your other poems, I have been enjoying your recent ones.
Hello RNI, I understand what you're saying. Yes, I like easing the suffering of others through compassionate action whenever I can. It makes me physically and emotionally uncomfortable to see distress in others. I would like to probe those feelings to find out exactly what is behind them, what deeply rooted memory, say, in my distant past elicits this reaction. That said, I must add that in my opinion, as long as someone else is comforted, then motive becomes unimportant, unless it's for something completely selfish and insincere as material gain. If the compassion is sincere, then I would say that whatever subconscious motive is at play is unimportant, at least from the standpoint of the person being (hopefully) helped. I've found through my own experiences that, as you so correctly point out, sometimes the best action is no action. And sometimes, being in physical proximity to a person is more than enough. Just the feeling of another warm body nearby brings a comfort of its own that words merely confound. If a person expresses compassion that has its roots in insincerity, he is only fooling himself. I don't think it necessarily negates any good that is done. Whew, that was pretty long-winded. Sorry...
michael: that is so interesting-- it seems that reallynotimportant and i had been simultaneously commenting on the compassion aspect of your post. i was unaware of his comment as i was writing mine. and as i read the two juxtaposed, i am thinking THIS is so cool. two entirely valid (i believe) interpretations of the same thing. two aspects of compassion that are so different as to appear to be opposite. the one gained through the zen-like experience of unfiltered reality, and the one that takes action. interesting. now, i'm done on the computer. just a little reading while having lunch.
8 comments:
Indeed, Anu.
I'm glad you're feeling better!
Hey Beachy,
I know I'm gonna sound like a wise-ass, but you have just as much right to complain as she has to grieve. Everything is relative.
I don't know this woman at all, and I knew her husband only to wave to him and exchange an occasional greeting, but there was something about that pitch-dark house in the pitch-dark of night and that single bulb burning that really got to me.
I was half-awake, but I kept saying to myself, "Remember this, remember this."
With love,
Michael
I don't really know what to say about this amazing post. It touched my heart. Thanks Michael. As your other poems, I have been enjoying your recent ones.
Hi Lone Wolf!
As always, it's very nice to hear from you! Thanks for your compliments. I really appreciate the time you take to read my stuff.
that really was a compassionate, amazing, and sad post. your few words said it all, and then some.
Hello Kim,
Thanks for your comments!
Hello RNI,
I understand what you're saying. Yes, I like easing the suffering of others through compassionate action whenever I can. It makes me physically and emotionally uncomfortable to see distress in others. I would like to probe those feelings to find out exactly what is behind them, what deeply rooted memory, say, in my distant past elicits this reaction.
That said, I must add that in my opinion, as long as someone else is comforted, then motive becomes unimportant, unless it's for something completely selfish and insincere as material gain. If the compassion is sincere, then I would say that whatever subconscious motive is at play is unimportant, at least from the standpoint of the person being (hopefully) helped.
I've found through my own experiences that, as you so correctly point out, sometimes the best action is no action. And sometimes, being in physical proximity to a person is more than enough. Just the feeling of another warm body nearby brings a comfort of its own that words merely confound.
If a person expresses compassion that has its roots in insincerity, he is only fooling himself. I don't think it necessarily negates any good that is done.
Whew, that was pretty long-winded. Sorry...
michael: that is so interesting-- it seems that reallynotimportant and i had been simultaneously commenting on the compassion aspect of your post. i was unaware of his comment as i was writing mine. and as i read the two juxtaposed, i am thinking THIS is so cool. two entirely valid (i believe) interpretations of the same thing. two aspects of compassion that are so different as to appear to be opposite. the one gained through the zen-like experience of unfiltered reality, and the one that takes action. interesting. now, i'm done on the computer. just a little reading while having lunch.
Profound...
and that single light was shining for you, for noticing....
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