Friday, May 20, 2011

Being Compassionate about Compassion

Before attending the recent Spiritual Directors International conference with its theme of “Cultivating Compassion,” I was anxious about how the conversation would go. I have had a fairly negative attitude toward the word “compassion,” based in part upon one person telling me how she “felt compassion for me” while reeking of paternalism and projection.

One dictionary definition of compassion is “sympathetic concern for the suffering of another, together with the inclination to give aid or to show mercy.” That definition well describes my concerns. “Sympathy” often connotes a superiority to the one offering the sympathy. Even when sympathy is offered without that connotation, it still leans toward the passive, such as the “inclination to give aid” rather than a more active response. The word “mercy” carries a judicial tone since it is often used in the context of courts of law.

So, with the dictionary confirming my nervousness, I noticed that the conference brochure had most of the workshops labeled with “compassion.” I carefully registered for those sessions that didn’t use the term. But there was no avoiding the plenary sessions.

Fortunately, Janet Ruffing was the main speaker at the plenary sessions, and she is one of the most articulate and well-grounded experts in spiritual direction in the U.S. Soon after she began speaking, I could feel myself relax. She quickly banished my fears that she would offer vague platitudes about compassion. She began by examining the “radical convergence” of the significant role of compassion among the Jewish, Christian and Buddhist faiths. As Ruffing delved into each one, she deeply explored the ways the word is used, considering nuances of languages, and using stories and illustrations from each tradition.

Selecting a few of my notes, Ruffing reflected upon the perspective of God, acting compassionately to the cries of God’s people by bringing them out of exile in Egypt. The people of God responded by betraying the trust God had put in them, building their own god in the form of the golden calf. Ruffing marveled at the “divine compassion that survives the anguish of betrayal, returning again and again to a relationship of love” with the chosen people. This is a courageous compassion, that is not shallow or passive, but moving through pain with deep commitment and forgiveness.

Later, she described how Christians picked up the Jewish experience of compassion, noting that “God’s compassion is unconditional and inclusive,” and “compels us to action.” My notes continue further to say that God cultivates compassion in us, with “God as the source, flowing into us, which we offer to the world.” The sense of the movement, an animating presence from God, leading us into the world is, once again, a very active and engaged perspective on compassion that as new for me. Finally, “compassion grows in us as we grow in God.”

This was brought home quite dramatically this last week when one of my directees was talking about life and what is going on. She described how she has become aware of the fact that she could not come up with compassion out of herself; it was not something that she could create in any way. She was becoming aware that any sense of compassion was coming to her from God, and in her awareness of God’s compassion for her, she was then able to be compassionate for others. I almost jumped out of my chair shouting “Yes!” Fortunately I was able to restrain myself, but I did tell her how she had echoed what Janet Ruffing had described at the SDI conference. It was a deep learning for both of us.

So, I am able to be much more compassionate about compassion, but I am not sure about two more years of conferences with the repeated theme of “cultivating compassion.”

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Men's Heart Work

During the recent Men’s Institute, after the recent Spiritual Directors International conference in Atlanta, a dozen men explored the contours of men’s hearts. It was clear from the early conversation that most in that hotel conference room were ready to take risks and move to deep levels.

In the initial exercise of Exercises of the Heart, we paired up tell each other “What makes your heart sing?” Then new pairs were formed for new questions such as “Describe a time when your heart was hurt or broken,” and “What hardens your heart?” As the questions were answered, we continually found common experiences and shared struggles with other men from around the U.S. and across the globe. Our differences in home town, church tradition, or age fell away.

I was somewhat surprised with the level of openness and vulnerability happening; men are stereotypically hesitant to talk about heart matters. Yet, considering the preceding three days with most programs designed by women for women, we all desired an alternative, masculine perspective and connection, and were willing to do what we needed to make those connections with each other

The next experience, the Grieving Heart, was a role play involving one man visiting another dying in a hospital bed, and required volunteers. While there was anxiety in the room and clear struggles about whether or not to take the chance, two pairs of men took the courageous step. In the first time through the play, we saw the love and respect one man has for his close friend and mentor. It made visible men’s hesitancy to thank and honor men who have given support and guidance. At least one man noted his intention to initiate that conversation with an elderly man before the opportunity was lost.

The second role play involved a man and his father, a relationship filled with conflicted experiences and emotions. The visible anger being expressed by the son in the role play was disturbing, yet was also understood by many men in the room. Discussing the role play, a number recognized how men’s grieving first shows itself in other emotions such as anger.

While the role plays illustrated two different responses to grief and death, the process dynamic illustrated the significance for men judging how safe the situation is before making a decision to commit and risk. When volunteers were requested, when each volunteer started playing his role, when talking about the experiences each person had in participating and watching, all of the men were constantly choosing when to risk or not, what to risk, and how to respond to another’s risk. We were assessing how safe the situation is before we were willing to speak out.

In the final section, How Do We Open Our Heart to Another, began with individuals pondering when we have opened our hearts to others, and the attendant fears and hopes. Then, in small groups, each person described and expanded upon his thoughts and listened to responses from the other men. The time together closed with the whole group beginning to apply what was learned to our lives and work as spiritual directors.

This time for individual reflection and looking towards next steps was deeply personal, so there is little that can be reported for the whole group.

The value of the time was not dependent upon the exercises done or questions asked, even if I think the three of us leaders did a great job of that. The value was in the gathering of men together, our ability to feel safe with each other, which allowed for a vulnerability rarely seen in groups including women with men. There is a bluntness and directness unique to a gathering of men, which is refreshing and also challenging.

I find myself inarticulate in describing what changed for me, but I left the event a different person.