40 Days of Compassion

Under the Mask of Compassion

Day Twenty

I’m half way through my commitment to study compassion for 40 days, so it seems like a good time to pause for a look within, to take notice of any shifts. Am I behaving any differently? Am I thinking any differently? Has maintaining this consciousness towards others’ hardships provided me with the level of “beingness” for which I’ve been seeking?

Yes and no always seems like the safe answer.

The other evening I was strolling along 23rd street here in Portland and came across a panhandler who asked for some help getting a bite to eat. Taco Bell, he preferred. I said yes and I meant yes…but I felt no. My hunch that the man, whose name is Scotty, was smashed was correct, and he repeated the same thing to me a good 40 times: “I’m not kidding, man, I’m not kidding. This shit ain’t good, man, I’m not kidding.” Several attempts to figure out what issue he wanted help alleviating were lost into the blur of drunkenness. At one point we were actually conversing, but he had to stop short and pee on someone’s doorstep. “When a man’s gotta go, a man’s just gotta do it,” he explained.

I decided early on in our walk towards Taco Bell (a very slow, slow walk, I should add) that I wasn’t going to be Scotty’s hero. No matter how many blankets or 7-layer burritos or words of hope I could give him, he was still going to continue doing life the way he wanted to do it. Scotty said that one thing that might help him most is a bus ticket down to the detox/treatment center. I of course stood 100% behind that initiative and asked him if I could put him on the bus rather than give him fare money. He instead chose to work on bumming a cigarette from someone, and I lost patience. Then I said goodbye.

Ultimately, what I hear in my voice right now is a mixture of both exhaustion and frustration, but more of the latter. As I walked home from the discouraging affair, I thought about all of my friends and family members and even acquaintances whom might have appreciated an extra shot of love and impromptu conversation. “Am I using my energy efficiently here?” I wondered.

Then it dawned on me that I was looking for positive feedback from Scotty. Deep down, I know that I was really trying to fulfill my need for human connection by making a significant difference in someone’s life. I think I needed someone to need me, though I dare not admit that very often. …where is the compassion in this??

This, more than anything else, is what was truly frustrating me in this exchange. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. Calling a friend will not make nearly the difference (or so I seem to believe) that it would by spending that hour or so looking for someone who needs a very big hand up off the ground. So, therefore, the conversation won’t mean as much…nor will I.

At least, that’s the fear. It’s frustrating to discover the mask that I sometimes don to help me face this fear. It’s a mask I know must find a nail to permanently perch upon before I can finally see, feel, and taste compassion for it what it truly is.

So that’s where I’m at… it’s going to be an important second half of a journey here.