Distant Compassion

Some of us are moved by tragedies, natural or man-made, striking hundreds or thousands of strangers in known or unknown lands. For example, flash floods in Arunachal Pradesh or farmer suicides in Vidarbha or earthquake in Nepal. We may also be moved by a stranger suffering from a critical illness or needing an immediate surgery or expensive medicines. We may be moved by students needing money for education and such.

We step in to donate money or resources, plan logistics to reach emergency or rehabilitation needs of that community, or make arrangements for surgery or medicine or livelihood, or provide for educational scholarships.

We do this from a safe emotional distance. A need is identified and fulfilled. Hurray, families affected by floods have received emergency supplies. Hurray, the patient was able to go into surgery. Hurray, money was distributed to families of farmers. Hurray, students have a scholarship.

There is a clear pre and post difference. There is this satisfaction of "having helped," of being a savior. Stories and photographs about the efforts can be written about in social media, shared in presentations or even reported in media. You receive immediate adulation as a humanitarian.

You are also happy and proud of yourself. You believe you are a humanitarian.

But missed in this effort is the fact that you had little or no contact with the beneficiaries. You were not with them everyday as they struggled in relief camps or when they were rebuilding lives. You were not with the patient as s/he goes through the trying recovery process. You were not with the student who after receiving the scholarship struggles with the studies and can't talk about it. You were not with the farmer families as they work everyday through trauma.

You do not have to actually confront the emotional intensity of pain and uncertainty of healing. From a distance you offer compassion.

Then there are others who live and walk with the affected communities, spending months and years, helping communities rehabilitate and recover. They go through all the ups and downs of life with that community -- the little joys and the many frustrations, the misunderstandings and the new friendships.

There are those who sit with students, helping navigate their curriculum, inspiring them onwards, and providing a shoulder to cry on when going gets difficult.

There are caregivers, family or friends, who walk with a patient through surgery, through recovery, through the many times the patient winces in pain, the many times the patient is sad or demanding. They give a significant portion of their day and emotional energy to caregiving.

Then there are those who have the ability to wade through complex and intense emotions to reach you, to goad you to walk out of the slush, to not give up when you think you will, and to celebrate when you emerge.

This is what I call as "close compassion", compassion where you are in emotional proximity of the beneficiary for an extended period of time.

There are no clear pre and post photographs. They often wonder if they made a difference.There is this blur of days when change happened but one cannot pinpoint what exactly was responsible for it except that someone stood by firmly. There are no material resources to statistically present and boast about. There is no financial costing for the emotions invested. There is little or no public adulation. No dramatic stories in social media. If perchance, they are written about in media, then they are also forgotten in a short span of time.

The most forgotten of this group are the caregivers. Almost nobody recognizes their courageous and unending service.

A person who has distant compassion may not be able to muster the strength for close compassion, may feel emotionally uncomfortable to confront intensity of pain. I am a person who practices distant compassion and occasionally close compassion. I do not have the spiritual strength to walk with people over long periods of time or through intense events.

But there are many who do. The last two years has opened my eyes to these invisible humanitarians. I am amazed by their consistency. I am in awe of their inner strength and the depth of their giving.

These are the "kind" people of our society, the ones who are kind to people around them selflessly through the year. The heros/heras who will probably never pose for an "I am her savior" photo ops.

I salute them. May we have many more of them!