THE ONE WHO CARES. . .

For the past few days I have been reflecting upon a question: ‘When have I received genuine comfort and consolation?’ I did not experience these when another taught me how to think or act. I did not experience these when another gave me advice about ‘taking care of myself.’ I did not experience it when I was in the wilderness and another offered me words of reassurance or hope.

Paradoxically, I received genuine comfort and consolation – especially during the times I was in the wilderness or when my soul was residing in the dark night or when I was deeply depressed and life seemed not worth living – when another simply sat with me. There were no words, there was no behavior, there was no ‘doing’ that the other offered – he/she simply sat with me. His/her presence was the caring. Being present with and to me – this was the gift of the one who cares.

For many of us, it is a challenge for us to simply be present to another. We want to help. We want to do something. We want to be useful. It seems that we believe that ‘to be present’ means that we must be ‘useful.’ Recently a fellow I know was in the hospital. I asked a friend of his to go with me to visit him. The person declined; he said ‘Why should I visit_____? I can’t do anything for him. I won’t know what to say. What use will I be to him?’

How often do we forget – or is it that we deny – that simply being with another who is in pain, suffering, discomfort, or dis-ease we actually offer comfort or consolation. How often do we find that simply being with another is difficult? Being with another is difficult because we have difficulty just ‘being’ – we are a culture that idolizes ‘doing.’ Just ‘being’ has little, if any, value for us who are ‘doers.’

In addition, if I am simply ‘present’ with you I might well experience your pain, your suffering, your anxiety, your loneliness, your helplessness – I will experience your vulnerability. These feelings are disconcerting for us ‘doing’ folks. We do not like to experience another’s weaknesses or another’s powerlessness (of course this is what being empathetic entails – to experience what the other is experiencing). We do not want to ‘get caught up’ in the other’s uncertainty or in the other’s lack of ‘control’ or in the other’s helplessness.

Paradoxically, if I choose to simply be present to the other and if I choose to be empathetic (that is, to feel and experience as the other does) then I do offer comfort and consolation and frequently the other will acknowledge that indeed ‘When you were with me I was comforted.’

When we offer comfort and consolation by being with, by staying with the other during those times we often become closer to the other and the other becomes closer to us (our motivation is not to become ‘closer’ but to be with the other during this time of illness, mental anguish, or spiritual desolation). By being present we announce that we are willing to walk into the desert, the darkness, the dis-ease or the wilderness with the other. This ‘walking with’ is an act of caring that is beyond measure.

When have I experienced ‘the one who cares?’ When have I chosen to be ‘the one who cares?’