Compassion

A couple of nights ago, making my way home from a solitary retreat, I stopped to visit my friend Lisa who - after many years of apartment living - beneath a freeway in Oakland - now lives in a house in Novato, at the north end of Marin county.

Betty
Photo by Lisa Sogliuzzo.

She takes care of a 91 year old bed-bound Irish woman called Betty. The photo doesn't quite communicate the feeling I got from her. She has a delicate face and manner. The most striking thing though was how cheerful she was. She thinks about people who are suffering and prays for them in her spare time, and most of her time is spare, she can't really do much else. I got such a feeling of peace and kindness and lightness from her.

I guess if you have complete faith in a God who you feel is always doing the right thing, there is nothing to be pissed off about. Perhaps the Buddhist version would be complete trust in the basic principle that whatever happens is contingent on myriad conditions, which in a way is the opposite of a great being making all the decisions, but similar in that a kind of trust in the reality of all situations becomes possible. Perhaps both attitudes can produce a deep sense of a lack of control, a letting go that is incredibly freeing, and conducive to happiness.

Skyward

Of course, meeting someone who has been unable to get out of bed for 10 years puts one's own suffering into perspective. You might say, well, she's 91 years old, it makes sense that she's very ill. A situation might appear to be more or less tragic depending on one's circumstances, but at the end of the day, suffering is suffering. Does one ever think that suffering is supposed to happen, that it's the right time? There's a degree of tragedy, at least for the person who's got it going on. I've been feeling sorry for myself to some degree, and meeting Betty put that into perspective.

She seemed genuinely happy and light hearted, without denying what her difficulties were. She said, "I miss being able to do things." She had been a very busy woman in her life. She was grateful for the care she was getting, and aware of so many others who do not have it. And she was sad to have virtually no living friends her age, but accepted it all with a striking grace and engagement.

Betty made me want to think of other's suffering more often, to be kinder.