Mama, Why Would We Want to Feel Their Pain?

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“Your ability to understand and empathize with others depends mightily on having a steady diet of positivity resonance, as do your potentials for wisdom, spirituality, and health.” – Barbara Frederickson

This was originally published on 4/5/2023. Heads up – you may have already read this.

My 7-year-old daughter, Miss O, bumped her 3-year-old brother with her backpack when they were getting into the car yesterday morning. As he started to cry, she offered an uncharacteristically flippant, “Sorry, Dude.”

I gathered him in my arms to check on the little pinky finger that got jammed and added something like, “I’m sure your sister wants to offer some sympathy but can’t find the words right now.”

As we got underway, Miss O said, “I thought sympathy was a bad thing?” The curiosity about learning about emotions moved her away from her defensiveness and we talked about the continuum of responses in the face of pain: denying it, indifference, sympathy and empathy. Off the cuff, I said that empathy was something like leaning in to relate to someone else’s pain.

Miss O asked, “Why would we want to feel their pain?”

It seems I’ve spent the better part of my 53-years trying to understand the answer to that question. I suspect that it was becoming a parent that truly changed my willingness to really sit with the distress of others.

I’ve found that unacknowledged wounds weep the most. Jack Canfora’s post, There’s Nothing Wrong With Everything Being Wrong, spoke to me about the cleansing act of being honest. When we pretend everything is okay either with ourselves or others that are hurting, we add a layer of BS that hardens over time.

But when we talk about hard things and are able to lean in to the sorrow and pain of others, we are blessed by getting to know someone deeply. I imagine we are all a little like icebergs, carrying the pain of life as the big unseen part beneath the water. And when we empathize with each other, we get to see all of us, and even witness the growth that comes with healing after things fall apart.

Which isn’t to say that I’ve found it to be easy to embrace the discomfort of others. I find myself stumbling for words, unsure how to ask, or if to ask, and it becomes worse if I fear I’ve had a part in causing pain. But when I avoid it, it only becomes bigger, sometimes big enough to sink the Titanic.

I remember my dad, who was a Presbyterian pastor for 40 years, describing the first time he had to do a funeral and a wedding on the same day. He said the sheer emotion of going through those extreme emotions almost buckled him at the knees.

I’ve found that the times I have the most access to empathy are when I’ve done my own work to manage my emotions, to understand that I don’t have to carry other people’s loads, and to clean my own wounds. Then I have a much bigger capacity to sit in the dark with others. I can’t go deep when I’m swimming in the shallow end of my self-care and grace pool. For me, that work is in the form of meditation, writing, and creating but I know we all have different tool kits.

So I circled back to my daughter and said, “Sometimes we start trying to empathize because we think it’s the right thing to do or because our mom told us we should. But sooner or later we learn that pain is a lot like the dark – only scary because we don’t look. We lean in to feel other’s pain so that it goes away and it doesn’t become a monster in the closet, threatening to pop out when we least expect it.

We lean in because we all take turns hurting and healing and then have to do the work of repair.”

I’ve also published today on the Wise & Shine blog: Just Start

(featured photo from Pexels)

60 thoughts on “Mama, Why Would We Want to Feel Their Pain?”

  1. Pingback: Just Start - Wise & Shine

  3. I love everything you wrote here, and deeply love the lessons you are teaching your kids. These are relevatory lessons that few of us get to learn!

    Plus this bonus lesson: “I can’t go deep when I’m swimming in the shallow end of my self-care and grace pool.”

    Thank you for sharing this!

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  4. Oh Wynne, I read this before, but the second reading brings such a greater sense of clarity about this challenging subject. I’ve been struggling to s’lain this to others who are clueless, but without much success. You have given me much food for thought, and a way to share with those who resist the unseen part of the iceberg. Perhaps it might help to melt a few frozen hearts. I sincerely hope so, because in my world, melting the iceberg is the only the only truly thing worth living for! Thank you for adding a new tool to my ice-breaker toolkit! Kisses and hugs to all parts and pieces—both now, in the past, and the future—to all who are in need! Love you!

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    1. Oh, melt a few frozen hearts. That’s so good, Julia. I think you are right the melting the iceberg is worth living for. And with your warmth, I think you have a good shot at it. Sending lots of love to you!! ❤ ❤ ❤

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  6. I absolutely loved this sentence: “We lean in because we all take turns hurting and healing and then have to do the work of repair.” We all take turns hurting and healing… 💔❤️‍🩹❤️

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  7. A complicated endeavor, for sure. Therapists must keep some distance. I sometimes had a tear, but I could not help if I broke down and took the full weight of the other’s pain and we both needed someone to offer consolation. The therapeutic distance still seems useful.

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    1. Thanks, Elizabeth. I’m sure my verbal answers had a lot more um’s and er’s than when I wrote it out. And then your comment really resonated with me. I think we do carry a lot more pain that we realize.

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  12. This was a beautiful post to read for a second time. Ms O asks such thoughtful questions and it’s endearing to watch someone develop their sense of self through your supportive guidance.

    Empathy is one of those traits best learned through hands on experience and it sounds like she’s getting good opportunities to do so.

    That phrase “untended wounds weep the most” really resonates with me and we want to avoid that for sure.

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  14. I’ve read studies that claim teaching a child empathy is the most important lesson they will ever learn because it’s also the number one indicator of a successful life, meaning you’ll be able to have deep and abiding relationships that feed and sustain you, that you have the ability to understand both sides of a conflict, and can appreciate or maybe understand the mechanics of cause and effect. You’ll be prone to writing run-on sentences but it doesn’t matter because you understand why. Hugs, C

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    1. How is it that you manage so well to be funny and wise in the same sentence? A true gift – one of your many. And how interesting the primacy of the lesson of empathy. I can see how it underscores all of our relationships and have experienced how destructive it is when not present. Yes!

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  16. Empathy and sympathy do not happen among siblings 😊. Your kids make me remember me and my brother, four years apart. We still fight as we fought decades ago! You have to observe your girl when she is with other kids 😊!

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  17. A though provoking post, Wynne.
    I think when children are taught to empathize from a young age, they grow into caring, giving, and responsible adults who know how to respond sensibly (rather than emotionally) to others’ needs.
    Love to you, Ms. O and Mr. D.

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  18. “I imagine we are all a little like icebergs, carrying the pain of life as the big unseen part beneath the water.” Isn’t that the truth, Wynne? Pain is part of our shared human experience, yet we’re so cautious about sharing it with others. Perhaps it’s because we see it as a sign of weakness. Thanks for this thought-provoking post, Wynne.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What an astute comment that we don’t share because we see it as a weakness. Maybe it’s a cycle – we don’t share and then others don’t know how to respond and then when we do share, the response is awkward? Thank you for the thought-provoking reply, Michelle!

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