caring too much

It’s Not My Job to Save the World

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

Before I dive into this reflection, I want to state that in no way, shape, or form, is this reflection definitive. Instead, it is part of an ongoing exploration of perceived mission, purpose, and calling. In this reflection, the central focus of the quandary is around what it means to be an empath and how we are, or are not, called to use this gift.

In the world of pop culture spirituality, the word empath has been increasingly tossed around. Some, including me, have jumped on the bandwagon, taking empath as a title, as well as a superpower, and in doing so, waving the banner of the special nature of this gift.

Is being an empath a superpower? Is it a gift Divinely imparted to those special few who are called to “hear the cries of the world,” who then employ their equally special gifts of healing to save the broken world?

Or is being an empath a defense mechanism that we developed so that we might carve out a safe place for ourselves in an otherwise violent world?

Ultimately, I believe the ability to feel the emotional state of those around us, along with the expanded sense of empathy that allows us to feel global phenomenon (like collective fear, approaching storms, pending earthquakes, solar flares, etc.) is a function of both nature and nurture. It seems to be true that some people are born with heightened sensitivities. There is also a strong argument for empathy as a developed skill born out of our own need to be safe.

Regarding the latter, further developing the empathic abilities that may have already been within me, has proved immeasurably helpful. It has given me the ability to sense danger, to read people’s emotions and intentions, to know when someone is a safe person to be around, and when one is pure evil. Being an empath has also helped me in interpersonal relationships – especially with those for whom I care, because it allows me to sense when they are upset, disturbed, angry, etc. which then allows for a healthy and helpful conversation. It allows me to intuitively know when someone might need support, but maybe doesn’t know how to ask.

There is a place for being an empath in my life that has shown itself to be healthy and helpful.

There is also a place where being an empath has gotten me in trouble.

We live in a culture (and I am of a gender) in which we are conditioned to be co-dependent. We are told it’s our job to make other people happy, to be a champion for the voiceless, to fight against injustice, and ultimately….to save the world. Being an empath without proper boundaries can feed this co-dependency, making us believe we are some sort of champion for the downtrodden, and savior of the world. The gift of empathy can further give us the feeling of being special or set apart from others, thereby feeding our ego and our pride.

Empathy is a gift, but it can also be a curse. For one thing, I’m not sure it’s safe or good for us to feeeeeeeel everything!  I know it’s not good for me. Feeling everyone’s feelings, every emotion, every intention, then heap on the collective fear and violence of our world, and I am bound to short circuit – which is exactly what I did last week. It became too much. My anxiety was off the charts. I felt like a cat full of static from having been brushed the wrong way. This short-circuiting caused me reach out to my doctor who authorized an increased dosage of my sertraline which has slowly eased my sense of being flayed.  I then took some time off to rest and reflect.

In the midst of this reflection, I was reminded that it is not my job to save anyone, let alone the world. Despite all I’d been taught and conditioned to believe, the only person I have the power of saving (and even this is debatable) is myself. I can’t change other people’s behaviors. I can’t change their beliefs. There is literally nothing I can do to rescue them from the trap they have created for themselves. My experience of being an empath does nothing to help those around me (except as I mention above), and my so-called healing powers will do nothing to solve the crisis in the Middle East, or to absolve the fear and unhealed wounds that would cause someone to inflict violence on another.

The only thing I can do with the sensitivities I have, the knowledge I’ve gathered, and the wisdom I’ve gained, is to:

  1. Care for myself.
  2. Be a source of support for others seeking to care for themselves.

Period. Other people’s crises are none of my business. Another’s pain is not mine to heal. I can do nothing to force evil to become good. I can’t change the direction of the tide. Humanity is on a course of its own making and there is not a single thing I can do to fix or change it.

So for today, I’m setting aside my superhero cape, laying down my bullhorn, and stepping away from humanity’s pain so that I can place my focus where it needs to be – on myself. Only in saving myself (with God’s help) can I ever hope to be a guide and support for others who also want to save themselves.  

I Care Too Much

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 6 Comments

I have a confession to make.  I talk big about cultivating the fine art of detachment and learning not to care, but in reality, I care too much. It’s a problem:

  • I care about the state of our world.
  • I care about humanity’s wellbeing.
  • I care about the lack of peace and the pervasive nature of conflict.
  • I care that some humans are truly evil and intentionally cruel.
  • I care about the health of our environment and the safety of our water and food.
  • I care about injustice.
  • I care that people are starving, homeless, without adequate medical care, living in war-torn countries where their safety is continually threatened.
  • I care that people die in unnecessary wars.
  • I care that the best humanity can come up with for resolving conflict is war.
  • I care about ignorance and the bad decisions human beings make because of a lack of verifiable information.
  • I care that there are people in the world who thrive on manipulating and abusing others.
  • I care…I care…I care…

More than all of this, I care about the people I love. I want the best for them.  I want them to be happy, healthy, well cared for, and safe. I want them to succeed in whatever they set out to do. I want them to have peace, to know contentment and to experience joy. I want them to feel loved.

The problem with caring, is that I am not in control over any of the things I care about. That drives me insane. It is excruciating to observe humanity and to see all the unnecessary violence, conflict, and hatred. It is even more difficult to watch those you love make decisions that will cause themselves or someone else harm. It is especially challenging when you have some experience in a certain area and can predict the harm that will come when one takes a certain path. This is hundred-fold true when you have a tiny bit of pre-sentience and a thousand-fold true when you are an empath, or when someone you love asks for guidance, and you give it, and they choose the exact opposite.

It actually hurts me to see some choosing certain paths. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it. So I writhe in agony. I become frustrated, angry, and impatient. I get balled up in self-righteousness. My anxiety escalates and my depression deepens. Sometimes it’s so bad my PTSD is triggered. It sucks.

Then I apply every single spiritual practice I know for detaching and letting go. Sometimes it helps. More often not. Or if it does, the effects are only temporary, and I find myself right back in the place of caring.

UGH!

There are days I want to shake my fist at God: “Why did you make me care???”  There are other days I try to bargain, “Can’t you make me NOT CARE like so many people seem to do?”  Then there are the days where I make myself not care – I have to get angry to not care, and then I feel guilty and like I’m being a complete asshole.

UGH!

Caring is a curse, but I’m not sure I would want to be any other way. Someone has to give a shit!  Right!?  If I don’t care, who will? If someone doesn’t care what will come of this world?

But then I look at what we call “God.”  Does “He” even care? I sometimes think not. Instead, it seems that God leaves us to our own devices and lets the chips fall where they may – consequences, natural law, karma, and all that jazz.

If God doesn’t care, then why do I?  It’s a serious question.

Some might call caring “codependency.” Yeah, I can own that. I do care – often too much. The too much is an ebb and a flow. Better on some days than others. When I’m feeling vulnerable, or anxious, or unwell, it might be worse. When my PTSD is triggered it’s definitely worse. Unraveling from being a first-born and certain cultural conditioning is hard. Healing from childhood wounds and forced extroverted niceness (brought about by multiple moves) takes time. People pleasing and over-responsibility have to be unlearned.

It’s a journey. But as hard as I am on others, I’m a million times harder on myself. I should have this thing down by now. Right!?

WRONG!  Not even close.  Turns out I’m human, fragile, vulnerable, and imperfect and broken just like everyone else. And more than anything else, I am not in control over the fact that I am excruciatingly human – and that just kills me.