I have a dear friend who is one of the most sensitive people I know. If I share some pain with her, I know she will respond deeply. She will truly feel my pain. I can see it in her face. I love that about her.
My challenge is that she then turns it into her pain, almost immediately. The conversation might look something like this.
Me: My dog, Bongo, died and I’m absolutely sick about it.
Her: (possibly tearing up) Oh my goodness! That is so sad! You’ve had her for 14 years. You must really be hurting.
Me: (sniff) Yeah. That dog was a true member of our family.
Her: I remember when my dog, Scruffy died. I didn’t get out of bed for three days. (Insert here: 20 lines about Scruffy, what she meant to my friend, and so on.)
There are two things that really bug me about this. One is that I know I do the same thing, and I don’t like that about myself. I’m really good at empathizing because I can call up similar experiences. But too often I get caught up in my own pain and forget about my partner’s pain.
The other is that, while I would have had space to hear about Scruffy eventually, I wasn’t done feeling my feelings about Bongo and whatever feelings of loss and abandonment his passing triggered.
I remember when I was four, I waited with my grandmother for what felt like an interminable time (it was probably not 10 minutes) to ride the carousel. When it was finally our turn, I picked out a cool looking horse, and my grandmother helped me up. Against the background music of the player piano and the smells of the carnival, I was giddy with anticipation.
The ride started, went around a single rotation, and then stopped. I sat on my horse in the up-high position for a few minutes before we learned there was a mechanical failure. My grandmother helped me down and we left. I wasn’t sad enough to cry, but I really felt cheated out of the promised ride.
That’s how I feel whenever my friend so quickly turns my pain into her pain. I don’t get the full ride. I’d rather she draw me out, maybe even let me cry a little. I’d like to feel those feelings, because I know the more deeply I can feel them now, the less they’ll linger over me like a dark cloud. My friend is even talented enough, if she is so inclined, to take me back to a more primal pain to help me heal some of the core suffering I’ve been carrying around for 50-plus years.
Empathy is really hearing your partner. Love is hanging in there for the full ride.
Judith Saly was born in Budapest, Hungary 93 years ago. She has always been interested in psychological and spiritual quests for the meaning of life. She was attracted to Eva Pierrakos’s lectures and the Pathwork when she read her first lecture in 1958. She and her husband, John Saly, studied with Eva and John Pierrakos to become Pathwork Helpers. (A Helper is senior level in Pathwork which can qualify people to lead workshops and perform individual sessions with clients.) Always interested in the dynamics of relationship, Judith gave Pathwork sessions to many couples. She compiled the lectures for the book, “Creating Union,” which highlights the Pathwork lectures on relationship, and is the author, co-author or editor of several books.
Today our topic is about both self love and how to use intuition to improve your relationship.
