Empathy in the Time of Corona: A Narrative for the Non-Empath

In the early 2000s C.E., B.C. (Common Era, Before Coronavirus) there was a concept called empathy which gained popularity in personal and professional development circles.

Wise people like Brené Brown showed us the power of not only understanding someone's feelings, but feeling their feelings with them. 

She reminded us empathy matters because empathy fuels connection. 

And we all agreed.

We all agreed because we would look like heartless, self-interested narcissists if we disagreed. 

In the process of dutifully nodding our heads when empathy was brought up as our companies created values centered around empathy, many of us got off easy.

We agreed empathy mattered, but never had to do anything about it. Life went on. Business as usual.

Then, there was The Great Interruption.

The entire world shut down and nations who prided themselves on figuring out how to produce more, generate more, entertain more - had to stop as a virus overtook our planet. 

People who’d grown accustomed to distracting themselves with appointments and social engagements and travel and movement and pace had to stop.

Though the entire world experienced the same pandemic, their interpretations of the experience varied greatly:

• Many were caught up in the 24-hour news cycle. Their emotions went up and down with the markets and they carried every headline on their shoulders. The pandemic was all they talked about and all they thought about. 

• Business owners and leaders found their hearts broken as they let people go and furloughed their employees. They watched their companies and causes disintegrate.

• The futurists and the entrepreneurs jumped into the current of change with both feet and swam toward a new future. They retooled their approach overnight and accepted the new normal with open arms. They were evangelists for the idea the world would never be the same. 

• An obstinate number believed the world was overreacting and did their best to continue living their lives - sometimes endangering others - and letting everyone know they weren't going to accept the hyped-up fear narratives sweeping the globe. 

• Some people appreciated the world slowing down. They either had secure jobs, savings, or a preexisting condition called wealth. They welcomed the pause and focused on projects and personal development they'd been neglecting. 

• Scores of individuals didn't have time to form an opinion on what was happening because they had to continue working. Whether they had a business to save, new jobs to find, family members to care for, or an essential job, they experienced tiredness and exhaustion more than fear or anxiety. 

• Unlucky hundreds of thousands caught the virus or had a friend or family member or neighbor catch the virus. Tens of thousands died. Some countries were brought to their knees.

• The selfless helpers rose up - as they aways do - and found their way to the front lines in hospitals, grocery stores, factories, or legislative buildings - working to protect, connect, and heal communities.

And many more hundreds, millions, billions of experiences happened inside each individual across the globe at the same time.

One experience to connect us all.

One shared experience, yet we're all experiencing it a different way. 

If you're anything like me, you believe your experience and the way you see the world is (or should be) everyone’s experience and how everyone sees the world.

And when you realize not everyone's experience is the same as yours, there are a few ways of reacting:

• Opposition and disgust

• Disagreement and skepticism

• Avoidance and distancing 

• Validation and acceptance

• Connection and empathy

None of the above reactions is necessarily good or bad. The essential question isn't about the rightness of how you’re responding to the way others are interpreting a shared experience.

The real question is simply: Is your reaction to the experience of others helpful or not helpful?

Growing up my dad told me it was foolish to believe what I wanted out of life was what others want out of life. Considering our current circumstances it’s also helpful to remember what my friend Chris McAlister likes to say: pain is relative.

Though it's been hard for me to connect with folks who are completely overcome with fear and anxiety about the Coronavirus, who am I to dictate what their reaction should be?

Most days, I've found myself bordering on frustration with people who are finding identity in worrying about a catastrophe outside of their control. I want to shout from the rooftops: "Is this really how you want to spend your time and energy?"

I can see myself perched atop my roof, cupping my sanitized hands around my mouth and yelling to the panicked people in my neighborhood that very question: "Is this really how you want to spend your time and energy?"

And as soon as the words leave my lips I hear the echo of my own voice coming back to me:

"Is this really how you want to spend your time and energy?"

Regardless of how I internalize external global challenges, is it really helpful to create a new disconnect between me and others because they aren’t reacting to our shared experience the way I want them to?

Is it fair I’ve tasked others with behaving a certain way so I can feel more comfortable with my disposition to feign resilience?

So - we come back to empathy.

The last few weeks I've struggled to employ empathy because I've believed empathy is something you're supposed to want to feel for others.

But I've realized - if I'm going to make it out of the Coronavirus pandemic with a soul - I should not leave the experience of empathy to the fickle fate of my feelings; because we can often confuse our ability to feel emotions deeply with the ability to empathize deeply. 

I'm learning empathy involves feelings, but it is not inspired by feelings. 

Empathy is an action.

And empathy-in-action yields connection.

I was speaking with a group of friends the other day who brought up a homily the Pope recently delivered. The gist of his message was: don't miss this.

Don't miss this moment right in front of us, rich with purpose and providing a new lens through which we can see what really matters to us.

Don't miss these minutes of slowness and urgency intermingled in a strange new way. 

Don't miss the conversation you can have inside yourself about the truth of who you really want to be.

Don’t miss this chance to pick helpful responses - even if they don’t make sense to you.

Don't miss this season where empathy-in-action can connect us in ways we've been longing to connect, but didn’t know how.