The intelligence of compassion. It’s not often that you find those two words linked in this way. Maybe because you don’t need to be kind or caring to get a college degree (I wonder – what would happen to our world if we were graded on compassion? :-)). Cutting roses for the house the other day I stabbed my finger on a thorn and a moment later stepped on another one barefoot. I was intelligently compassionate enough not to hold this against the roses. But am I the same about the people I encounter whose thorns enter my skin? This passage in the simplicity and strength of its truth brought to mind a prose-like poem someone sent me recently- one that reminds me of the quiet understanding it takes to meet the hostility, sarcasm, insults and other barbed, stinging not-fun thorns of negativity that come our way with clear-sighted compassion. The generous, humble, courageous kind that can’t confuse the insult with the one who cast it.
"The Ways We Touch"
Have compassion for everyone you meet,
even if they don't want it.
What appears bad manners, an ill temper or cynicism
is always a sign of things no ears have heard,
no eyes have seen.
You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets
the bone.
-- Miller Williams
On May 16, 2006 pavi wrote :