Compassion in a time of crisis

Sometimes I forget. When my thoughts turn to those who are in need, and are denied access to what is essential to them, I feel anger towards those who selfishly serve their own needs to the detriment of others. What I forget in those moments is something fundamental to the practice of compassion.

In recent weeks, the breaking out of a pandemic has put a spotlight on human behaviour. The shelves of supermarkets have been emptied at a greater rate as the panic sets in. Governments around the world have been applauded or condemned by their people, depending on how they have responded to the crisis.

I found that I became increasingly puzzled, and then angry, at reports that people were buying supplies in bulk, leaving fewer or none of the essentials for others. In my mind, it was an example of those who already had too much, and could afford to buy in bulk, depriving those who weren't able to do so. In my mind, it was an all too visible representation of social and economic inequality.

It would seem that those buying in bulk lack compassion for their fellow human beings. Their behaviour, at least, would suggest a lack of compassion. A self-centred greed, which appears to be a symptom of a society's move away from a sense of community to a greater focus on the individual, may be the root. That, however, may not provide an adequate explanation for what is driving the behaviour on an individual level. Print, broadcast and social media perpetuate assumptions much of the time, and serve through those assumptions to fuel fear, hatred and anger.

What if we were to separate the behaviour from the person? What if we observed the behaviour and looked for other potential mechanisms behind it? We might then see fear and anxiety. What we see then, is that acts which cause great suffering are being performed by people who, internally, are suffering too.

Recognising the suffering of others is not to excuse their behaviour - it is simply to change our perspective. It has been said that holding on to anger is akin to holding a hot piece of coal. Our choice is to vent our anger, in a way that is appropriate, or to question from where our anger arises.

It's all too easy to say the above. My work involves listening to the suffering of others with sensitivity, compassion and a non-judgemental attitude. Sometimes though, as I said at the start of this piece, I forget. Part of the training for my work covered this, and I've started to make peace with the fact that sometimes I fall short of the standards I set for myself.

After all, how are we to show compassion for others, if we are unable to offer it to ourselves?