My presence is fading

Can we hold each other through these challenging times?

NOTE: This was a column I wrote, originally published on Oct. 2, 2015 in the London Free Press

(AI generated on Canva by MythologyArt)

As I look out the window onto the bustle of the street, I realize I am truly invisible. I am dying a slow death, and despite it being painful to me, I am more worried about others.

I used to be obvious in the hearts of the masses; on the playground, in schools and even during classes. Teachers attempt to save me but the progress is slow. The way education has evolved has tied their hands and I sympathize.

Church used to be my stomping ground, the place you could always find me, or so many thought. The judgement that often comes from wealth and keeping up with the Joneses has made me disappear. And, well, there’s the ‘God’ thing. God/Spirit/Source/Universe has a pretty hard time getting followers right now too. There is nothing deistic and pure about me. You don’t have to be a believer for me.

There was a time when the workplace embraced me. People took care of each other, took the time to listen and weren’t afraid to step up and defend someone or something. A myriad of well-meaning policies have cropped up in the not so distant past but you can’t legislate me.

The ‘family’. Now that was the place where I could really do my best work, really shine. The people joined by blood, DNA, destined to care for one another through thick and thin. As we move ever more so from the generation of ‘we’ to the generation of ‘me’, even families have pushed me aside. They never seem to take the time to visit each other, talk to one another or just listen at the other end of the phone. People are just too busy.

It’s a rarity now to see evidence of me in positions of power. Heck, we’re in the throes of a federal election campaign and while most of you realize that my presence during this time, and among the leaders, is pretty much non-existent, I am still hopeful.

It’s kinda my thing.

I once carried weight in the hearts of men and women fighting in wars, the wars that present and past politicians allowed us to participate in. Now my efforts seem all the more fruitless.

It may really seem absurd to you that I would even continue to try, to soldier on, to not give up. I’ve really taken a beating and am dissolving with the passage of time. It seems the world has been none the wiser. People just devour; not just food, but ‘things’ and sometimes each other. We are a disposable society and I was just the appetizer.

But there is always a choice and I hold on to that one shred of hope.

I think people have just forgotten about me but I have the chance to help them remember.

You can see me when someone is listening to another person, who maybe has no one else that will listen. You can see me when someone shares a personal story so that another feels they, too, can open up and feel safe. You can see me when a marginalized person is accepted and encouraged, or even just SEEN and HEARD, for exactly who they are. You can see me when someone has simply fallen and another offers a hand up. I am anywhere that one person puts the needs of others before themselves.

I am confident you will see a resurgence of me.

You see, my name is EMPATHY