Is it possible to have too much empathy?
Mark K May 15th, 2009
Is it possible to have too much empathy?
Not long ago I ran into a woman walking down the street of my hometown, who I recognized from a local greeting card shop. She was dressed in black, as always, with layers of clothing from her extra-long sweater down to her peasant skirt and old-fashioned lace-up boots. She looked almost like a person in mourning, but more thoughtful than sad.
I remember once when I bought a sympathy card at the store where she worked. She looked at the card and then at me with an expression of grave concern and then told me that she was sorry about my loss. The card was for a friend of mine who had lost his father. I had never met the father, so even though I appreciated her concern, I felt that I wasn’t really a deserving recipient, being so far removed from the loss.
When I saw the woman in black walking down the street, it reminded me that I hadn’t seen her at the store for a long time. I wondered if perhaps she had such an abundance of empathy that she could no longer tolerate the extremes of emotion that she experienced as people purchased cards to celebrate, grieve or give thanks. Had someone complained that she was too personable, that she was too curious about why customers were buying cards?
I was reminded of the character from “The Secret Lives of Bees” who took on the sorrow of those around her. In order to cope with the pain, she build a miniature wailing wall in her back yard. Whenever she absorbed the sadness of those she loved, she would write about it and then rush outside where she folded the paper and stuffed into a crack between the rocks of her wall.
The card shop closed recently. Perhaps the lady in black has found another way to put her gift of empathy to use. Hopefully she has her own version of a wailing wall to protect her when the feelings get too intense.
- mindfulness , musings
- Comments(2)
Hi Mark,
Too much empathy, umm? The lady in black cloaked in sorrow? I suppose this is the opposite of compassion overload–the state where we push back from tales of woe.
I see the smiling Buddha in my garden, pink and red blossoms waving over his bald head. Be happy, he says. Be happy.
Today I found a five dollar bill on the sidewalk. I bought a turkey and swiss sandwich on rustic Italian bread for $4.99 and shared it with Ron. Yummy.
Your friend,
Christie
I found a couple of dollars on the street myself a while ago and saved them, thinking I could pass on the good luck in some way. I put the bills in the little change pocket in my jeans and forgot about them. A few weeks later I was buying some bike parts for my son at this used bike shop. It turns out that they take cash only and I was two dollars short. The owner grabbed two bucks from his “beer fund” (tip jar) and paid the difference for me. I told him that I’d come back later – I felt bad about leaving him without beer money. On the way to the car I discovered the two dollars in my pocket and returned to pay off my debt. I got a kick out of the fact that the found money that I had planned to pass on to someone else was the exact amount as the “beer money” that the owner had passed on to me.