Hello, sir. Glad you made it. Come in. Sit. Get comfortable.
Could you please take off your shoes? Excellent.
Now I'll ask you to step into someone else's.
Empathy. So much digging around this concept — and in the end it's a not-very-complicated operation of the eyes.
You know that film technique where the camera rides along with one character's point of view? Every beginner director knows the best way to make us identify with a character is to make us see what she sees.
And remarkably — as in the movies, so in life.
I'm going to ask something of you. It isn't easy, but it will upgrade your quality of life at no extra charge.
I'm going to ask you to dedicate a few minutes a day to seeing life — the people, the tasks — through the eyes of someone who matters to you.
Don't try to "feel empathy" by force. It won't work. Instead, try being curious for three minutes about your partner, your child, your client, your aging parents.
Start with something physical. Try to imagine — really imagine, minute by minute — how your child's morning unfolds. Or your wife's. Walk with them between their tasks. Picture yourself dressing like them, running the morning errands like them, commuting like them, noticing the things they notice.
Now the next stage. After you've lived in their shoes for two minutes (and put the phone down already!), try to feel — at full strength and directly — the frustrations they feel.
How does she feel when everyone has left and she remains with mountains of laundry? Reconstruct her movements; load the machine in your imagination; picture her gaze drifting over the kitchen and finding only mess.
Picture your son in class. Hear the teacher's voice. Move your hand restlessly at your side the way he does when he's bored. Clench in despair as the lesson refuses to move and the break is still so far away.
Diving into someone's gut is not a light experience. Staying down there is genuinely shaking.
We walk the world mistaking ourselves for our point of view — as if we and it are one thing. The good news: it isn't necessarily so. We were granted the ability to feel empathy. Sadly, we mostly deploy that muscle in emergencies only — when she's crying, when he's kicking with frustration.
And set romance and family aside for a moment: do you have any idea how PROFITABLE empathy is?
What does your client see when he sees you? What happened to him in the minute before he reached you? What does he go through while waiting for your service? What is your colleague's life actually like — what home does she return to?
You want the point of the exercise? Fine. Here it is.
After you've traveled a few good minutes through another person's body and eyes, ask yourself, quietly and with real intent:
What do they need most right now?
What would help them most?
Which frustration or burden could I remove?
And once you've answered — here comes the revolutionary next step: go and give them what they need. Ask them directly, or take the initiative and act. But decide that you are enlisting, now, to lighten their load a little.
And right on cue you cry out: "But where am I in all this? What about MY needs?"
I happen to have an answer: for the next few minutes, your needs can take a number.
If you cannot set yourself aside for a few minutes — if you can't put a seal on your oh-so-precious needs — then this exercise isn't for you yet. Compassion for another is exactly that: compassion and attention pointed at the other. Not at you.
In these minutes, they matter more than you. You are marginal. You are to the side.
You'll be surprised — it's not such a bad experience, being off to the side of the action now and then. And if the person you gave your heart to isn't a complete ingrate, their gratitude will do you a world of good.
Guaranteed.