Chapter 22: Feeling Another's Pain
At age ten, Lizzie got eyeglasses for the first time. Looking at the mountains she uttered in amazement, “I didn’t know you could see individual leaves on trees.” About sixty years later, Lizzie got bifocals to help her read fine print and drive at night. When she got home and saw herself in a mirror, she uttered in amazement, “Wow, new glasses gave me a lot of new wrinkles!” New glasses helped Lizzie see the world as others do.
In 1858, Abraham Lincoln, while giving a speech, said: “Reading from speeches is a very tedious business, particularly for an old man that has to put on spectacles, and the more so if the man be so tall that he has to bend over to the light” from Bartleby.com). From Lincoln’s point of view, he had three problems reading speeches—too old (he was forty-nine), too tall (he was six-foot-four-inches), and too little light.
Too much light was Brigham Young’s problem. Seeing life through his eyes gives perspective about what it was like to travel in a carriage or stagecoach from St. George to Logan and points in between. On these trips and perhaps around town as well, President Young wore green-tinted sunglasses with side flaps made of the same tinted glass to filter out direct morning or evening sunlight.
Needing two pair of spectacles and constantly switching back and forth was Benjamin Franklin’s problem. As his vision deteriorated, he invented "double-spectacles." In 1784, he wrote to his optician and made a request to “take both his long distance glasses and his reading glasses, slice their lenses in half and then suture the lenses together with the reading lenses on the bottom and the long distance glasses on the top” (from BenjaminFranklinBio.com).
Everyone accepts the fact that Lizzie, Abraham Lincoln, Brigham Young, and Benjamin Franklin all needed help to correct their eyesight, and everyone knows it would have been ridiculous for Brigham Young to say to Abraham Lincoln: “I notice you need more light to see the text of your speech. Here, wear my sunglasses. They really work for me.”
To understand another’s need, you must try to see the world from others’ perspective. And try is the best you can do because it is impossible to know exactly how someone else feels or exactly what will help them feel understood. Even if you have had a similar experience, saying, “I know just how you feel,” is never true.
Brené Brown gave a TED talk in which she used the word empathy to define the ability to take on the perspective of another person. An empathetic person recognizes “that someone else’s perspective is their truth.” She characterized someone who is experiencing difficulty as having fallen into a deep pit. When an empathetic person realizes a friend or family member is in a pit, he/she will climb down a symbolic ladder to be with the person. This action says, “You are not alone.”
Dr. Brown suggests that if the person in the pit opens up to you, the worst possible response is to point out something good in his/her bleak situation. Such statements usually begin: “Well, at least.” Dr. Brown illustrates: Someone just shared something that is incredibly painful with you. “I had a miscarriage” and you say: “Well, at least you know you can get pregnant.” The person unburdens: “My marriage is falling apart.” And you say: “Well, at least you have a marriage.” The person confides: “John’s getting kicked out of school.” And you say: “Well, at least Sarah is an A-student.”
“At least” attempts to distract rather than show concern. An empathetic response to someone who has just confided sensitive information is: “I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m just so glad you told me.” The person in the pit does not want advice or need you to try to point out something positive. Dr. Brown said that rarely will your response make things better. What will make things better is when the person feels understood. Empathy doesn’t try to put a silver lining around the problem.
Abraham Lincoln excelled at taking others’ point-of-view, to feel what they were feeling. “Tact,” he said, “is the ability to describe others as they see themselves.” He was “magnanimous in victory—and defeat; and gracious toward his critics and opponents—win or lose.” At the end of the Civil War, General Lee surrendered and “expected to be executed, but Lincoln wouldn’t think of it. He also gave strict orders regarding the Confederate soldiers. After surrendering their arms and artillery, they were allowed—with their horses and baggage—to go home to their families. Lincoln wanted to spare them as much humiliation as he could. “At the White House ceremony celebrating the Union’s victory, Lincoln even went as far as playing Dixie, the patriotic song of the South. ‘It is good,’ he said, ‘to show the rebels that, with us in power, they will be free to hear it again’” (from LeadershipByThePeople.org).
Empathy may sound hard to do. And it is, if you think of it as something you have to do. But if you will risk by opening your heart to listen, to give a kind word, an honest compliment, or a caring act, you will build bridges between perspectives—enemies, competitors, husband and wife, siblings, and friends. Empathy sees perspective. Empathy feels and heals.
(c) Marilynne Todd Linford
In 1858, Abraham Lincoln, while giving a speech, said: “Reading from speeches is a very tedious business, particularly for an old man that has to put on spectacles, and the more so if the man be so tall that he has to bend over to the light” from Bartleby.com). From Lincoln’s point of view, he had three problems reading speeches—too old (he was forty-nine), too tall (he was six-foot-four-inches), and too little light.
Too much light was Brigham Young’s problem. Seeing life through his eyes gives perspective about what it was like to travel in a carriage or stagecoach from St. George to Logan and points in between. On these trips and perhaps around town as well, President Young wore green-tinted sunglasses with side flaps made of the same tinted glass to filter out direct morning or evening sunlight.
Needing two pair of spectacles and constantly switching back and forth was Benjamin Franklin’s problem. As his vision deteriorated, he invented "double-spectacles." In 1784, he wrote to his optician and made a request to “take both his long distance glasses and his reading glasses, slice their lenses in half and then suture the lenses together with the reading lenses on the bottom and the long distance glasses on the top” (from BenjaminFranklinBio.com).
Everyone accepts the fact that Lizzie, Abraham Lincoln, Brigham Young, and Benjamin Franklin all needed help to correct their eyesight, and everyone knows it would have been ridiculous for Brigham Young to say to Abraham Lincoln: “I notice you need more light to see the text of your speech. Here, wear my sunglasses. They really work for me.”
To understand another’s need, you must try to see the world from others’ perspective. And try is the best you can do because it is impossible to know exactly how someone else feels or exactly what will help them feel understood. Even if you have had a similar experience, saying, “I know just how you feel,” is never true.
Brené Brown gave a TED talk in which she used the word empathy to define the ability to take on the perspective of another person. An empathetic person recognizes “that someone else’s perspective is their truth.” She characterized someone who is experiencing difficulty as having fallen into a deep pit. When an empathetic person realizes a friend or family member is in a pit, he/she will climb down a symbolic ladder to be with the person. This action says, “You are not alone.”
Dr. Brown suggests that if the person in the pit opens up to you, the worst possible response is to point out something good in his/her bleak situation. Such statements usually begin: “Well, at least.” Dr. Brown illustrates: Someone just shared something that is incredibly painful with you. “I had a miscarriage” and you say: “Well, at least you know you can get pregnant.” The person unburdens: “My marriage is falling apart.” And you say: “Well, at least you have a marriage.” The person confides: “John’s getting kicked out of school.” And you say: “Well, at least Sarah is an A-student.”
“At least” attempts to distract rather than show concern. An empathetic response to someone who has just confided sensitive information is: “I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m just so glad you told me.” The person in the pit does not want advice or need you to try to point out something positive. Dr. Brown said that rarely will your response make things better. What will make things better is when the person feels understood. Empathy doesn’t try to put a silver lining around the problem.
Abraham Lincoln excelled at taking others’ point-of-view, to feel what they were feeling. “Tact,” he said, “is the ability to describe others as they see themselves.” He was “magnanimous in victory—and defeat; and gracious toward his critics and opponents—win or lose.” At the end of the Civil War, General Lee surrendered and “expected to be executed, but Lincoln wouldn’t think of it. He also gave strict orders regarding the Confederate soldiers. After surrendering their arms and artillery, they were allowed—with their horses and baggage—to go home to their families. Lincoln wanted to spare them as much humiliation as he could. “At the White House ceremony celebrating the Union’s victory, Lincoln even went as far as playing Dixie, the patriotic song of the South. ‘It is good,’ he said, ‘to show the rebels that, with us in power, they will be free to hear it again’” (from LeadershipByThePeople.org).
Empathy may sound hard to do. And it is, if you think of it as something you have to do. But if you will risk by opening your heart to listen, to give a kind word, an honest compliment, or a caring act, you will build bridges between perspectives—enemies, competitors, husband and wife, siblings, and friends. Empathy sees perspective. Empathy feels and heals.
(c) Marilynne Todd Linford
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