All languages derived from Latin form the word “compassion” by combining the prefix meaning “with” (corn-) and the root meaning “suffering” (Latin, passio). In other languages —Czech, Polish, German, and Swedish, for instance— this word is translated by a noun formed of an equivalent prefix combined with the word that means “feeling”.
In such Latin-derived languages, “compassion” means:… we sympathize with those who suffer. Another word with approximately the same meaning [is] “pity”, that connotes a certain condescension towards the sufferer. “To take pity on a woman” means that we are better off than she, that we stoop to her level, lower ourselves.
That is why the word “compassion” generally inspires suspicion;… a 2nd-rate sentiment that has little to do with love.
In languages that form the word “compassion” not from the root “suffering” but from the root “feeling,” the word is used in approximately the same way, but … the secret strength of its etymology floods the word with another light and meaning: to have compassion (co-feeling) means not only to be able to live with the other’s misfortune but also to feel with him any emotion—joy, anxiety, happiness, pain. This kind of compassion therefore signifies the maximal capacity of affective imagination, the art of emotional telepathy. In the hierarchy of sentiments, then, it is supreme.
Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (shortened)
As I mentioned in class, I had this very clear image of myself as not being emphatic at all. Some background may be useful to explain where this comes from…
When I was a teenager, I got a reputation among my female friends of being a good listener, but also a no-nonsense guy (which made me feel somehow proud). I used to listen to their love stories and toss to them the “harsh truth” as I saw it. I always believed (and in a way still do) that instead of trying to sugarcoat things, it was better for them to help them face the truth (better one clean cut that many tiny scratches over a long time). I was providing solutions (needless to say it cost me some friendships).
When I got married, my now ex-wife accused me recurrently of being too practical. She used to cry a lot and I was confused half of the time, since I could not figure out the reasons (a long story, for another time), guess I finally convinced myself (or she convinced me) that I truly lacked sensitivity towards others. Apparently, empathy was a feeling that was not included in my package when I was born.
Additionally, until now, I believed that empathy meant feeling the feelings of the other person (similar to Kundera’s explanation for compassion as co-feeling). Being so, a main concern since I started studying was, what am I going to do if I am not able to feel –let us say– sad (and wanting to cry) when my client feels sad? I am going to be as puzzled then as I was with my ex-wife? If so, what can of therapist am I going to be?
“empathy is vicarious introspection, a method for inquiring into the subjective experience of another…”. Great idea! Empathy does not necessarily imply love, affection or compassion; that it can be expressed in disagreement or in accord, and that it does not imply a fusion with the client1. Alternatively, it “can be achieved by actively arousing, or letting oneself be pervaded by, an absorbing human interest in the person one wills to understand.” It implies approaching the client with sympathy, respect and wonder2, to establish a relationship. Now, that is something I can do!
Some authors suggest specific exercises to develop emphatic understanding, emphasizing the importance of listening intently (as previously discussed), which made me reflect why I was so insensitive. I think I was not really listening attentively; I was just listening as much as I needed to formulate a hypothesis and offer a solution. Looks like the Mars/Venus cliché, where women want empathy and men provide solutions. Apparently, that is what I have been doing. No wonder I was unemphatic!
Hopefully in the future I will know better.
