Empathy vs. Sympathy.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about empathy and sympathy lately, particularly their differences.  Let’s be trite and start with definitions, shall we?

                Empathy:

1: the imaginative projection of a subjective state into an object so that the object appears to be infused with it

2: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner

            Sympathy:

1: an affinity, association, or relationship between persons or things wherein whatever affects one similarly affects the other

2: the act or capacity of entering into or sharing the feelings or interests of another

Ok, that’s a lot of words, so let me attempt to (perhaps over-) simplify.  To sympathize is to feel emotions alongside someone because of your relationship with them, and to empathize is to attempt to feel exactly what someone else is feeling in an effort to understand their point of view.

I’ve heard and read things lately suggesting that empathy is the greater value, and one that is lacking in modern society, but I believe this to be an inherently flawed thesis.  I think empathy is, at its core, a selfish and self-centered notion, and that sympathy is the greater virtue.

When someone feels any emotion, good or bad, it is a uniquely subjective experience.  The happiness felt at the birth of a child varies from one person to the next.  It is built on years of back-story and the events leading up to that joyous moment.  When a loved one dies, each person’s grief is different based on their relationship to that person and their own feelings towards their own mortality.  I would argue that emotions are just like snowflakes and fingerprints: no two are the same, and everyone’s are unique because of their complexity.

To claim empathy is to claim that you know exactly what someone else is going through and feeling, and thus can relate to them on a deeper level.  It is to project oneself into a given situation and, after seeking understanding of how one would react, claim to know what someone is going through.  I find this a selfish notion.  We can’t know the feeling of others; we can only know our own feelings and what others share with us.  Empathy results in the statement “I know what you’re going through.”

Sympathy, on the other hand, is essentially our own reaction to another person’s emotions.  Because of our relationship with them, we are happy when they are happy, and we hurt to see them hurt.  It is to feel “alongside”, rather than “through”.  The real miracle of sympathy comes when we hurt or rejoice with those we do not know or have a relationship with just because they are people, too.  Because we rejoice with our brothers and sisters when they are happy, and we hurt to see another in the grip of grief.  Sympathy says “I am here with you now” instead of “I was here once”.

Empathy is a goal you cannot and probably woudl not want to actually attain.  Your own feelings are more than enough most of the time (I know mine are).  But let others know that you care.  Sympathize.

Know your enemy.

Sun Tzu was a general in the military and a philosopher in the Zhou Dynasty of China, around 500 BC.  He most famous work is called "The Art of War", in which he outlines not just military tactics, but the thought processes and wisdom related to victory on the battlefield.  He is responsible for sayings like "All warfare is based on deception", and perhaps most famously the reductionary "To know one's enemy is to know one's self," or more simply, "Know your enemy."  One of the greatest enemies in our household has been given the overly-cute, but situationally frightening name The Sleepytime Saddies.

It's late, you're tired, and you lie down to sleep.  Without warning, sadness washes over you like a cliche about waves.  You're sad about everything, anything, life the universe, it doesn't matter; you are just sad.  Indescribably sad, and it's so hard to shake you think you'll never sleep or be happy again.  That's the Saddies, and they are terrible.

In CS Lewis' book That Hideous Strength, the member's of Ransom's group are visited by the Old Gods, and their attributes fill the room.  When Mercury arrives, they all dance with joy.  When Venus comes through, they are all in love, friendly, and caring to one another.  When Saturn descends, sorrow for the dying universe hits them.  They think about how we all age, we all die, they think about the heat-death of the universe, and feel like they may never be happy again.  Lewis knew.

JK Rowling (also a member of the "Two First Initials Great Authors Club") described the Dementors feeding on happiness, giving their victims visions of the worst moments of their lives, leaving them cold and afraid.  Rowling knows.

I wrote last time about our "8 to 8" rule, and what a lifesaver it has been.  Being able to call out The Saddies for what they are has also been a huge help.  Just being able to say "This isn't real; this is just the pressure of the day collapsing in.  This is just The Saddies," helps prevent an all-out meltdown for either of us.  More importantly, navigating these storms can help you figure out what is weighing on you that you may not have known about, what is troubling you.  Unburdening yourself is one of the best ways to fight the Saddies, and just an all around good idea. 

So know your enemy, know yourself, and keep fighting the good fight against them.  When Saturn descends, he rarely stays long.  Dementors are sent packing by the happy thought of a Patronus, and the Saddies are driven out by talking, by hugs, and by ice cream.  Go easy on the latter, trust me.

The night time is almost never the right time.

Yes.  I know.  I've been busy.  Moving on...

KB and I have been married for almost nine (9) years now, and ever since a little bundle of joy walked into our lives, we've had a decision-making agreement that has really helped us staunch the flow of bad ideas.  We call it the "8 to 8 Rule".

Way back when, in 2004, Meg walked in through our back door, and into our lives.  She was wormy, mangy, and fairly insistent.  We lived in a small house and already had Clancey, our border collie.  Meg was a fairly destructive puppy, as puppies are wont to be, and so we had to make the decision and the choice to keep her.  She was especially barky at night (again, par for the course), and we often threatened (each other?) that the next day she was going to be taken to the Humane Society.  We decided one night, in a moment of clarity, that making decisions when tired or aggravated was probably not the best of ideas, thus implementing the rule that decisions of a large scale could not be made between the hours of 8:00 PM and 8:00 AM.  I dare say that rule kept Meg in dog biscuits, since during the daylight hours she was (and still is) a remarkably well behaved dog.  It served us well for keeping a rational head with Meg, and it has served us well in the days since.  As the night seeps in and we struggle to stay awake, I think we have a propensity to make bad choices; putting in a safeguard in place has really saved us some grief.  "8 to 8" is also a bulwark against an unseen enemy that KB and I have dubbed "The Sleepytime Saddies".

It's late, you're tired, you're about to fall asleep.  There's a knock at the door of your emotions.  Who's there?  The weight of the world, that's who.  Bam.  The world.  Every ounce of cosmic sadness is now on you, and damn if it isn't heavy. That's the Sleepytime Saddies.  Think you can make good decisions where they are going through your closet?  Heck no.  They are busy looking through cards people sent you years ago that you haven't thrown away, and you're trying to decide on vacation plans.  Don't do it.  That attempt at a decision will lead to an argument, and then to a fight.  Just.  Wait.  Until.  Tomorrow.

Just wait until tomorrow; everything will still be here.