For
centuries, people of the Western world have been trained to view the mind,
body, and spirit separately. Because of this, on an energetic level, these
spheres have learned to function separately. Mind, body, and spirit may be seen
as aspects of a being, but there is no separation. As this connection is
acknowledged, it can soon be noted that strengthening one may increase the
capacity of the others within oneself. The premise of this paper is to explore
this interconnection between physicality and the potential expression of
compassion. That is, by increasing and/or developing one’s physical activities,
one can more easily express compassion.
In
her talk for a TED convention, journalist Krista Tippett explained how
compassion is often mistranslated into terms such as “pity” or “tolerance” or misunderstood
as “heroic people you can never be like.” She further explained that “cultural
imagination about compassion has been deadened by [such] idealistic images.”
Compassion is kind. The breeding ground for compassion is “curiosity without
assumptions.” She explained, “Compassion can be synonymous with empathy. It can
be joined with the harder work of forgiveness and reconciliation. But it can
also express itself in the simple act of presence. It is generosity,
hospitality, just being there—just showing up. It is willingness to see beauty
in the other, not just what it is about them that might need helping” (Compassion,
Beauty and Physicality, 2014).
Compassion is rooted within the mysteries of space and time, the flow of flesh
and blood, and the complexities of color and life. By developing our
understanding of compassion, we can come to realize it isn’t about giving away
more than we have in our reserves, but rather it is changing the way we
interact with the situations we are already given.
Compassion
also does seek physicality. Physical exercise has many well-known medical
benefits. As the Mayo Clinic website describes, these benefits include such aspects
as improving mood, controlling weight, boosting energy, and combating health
conditions and disease. However, physicality goes so much deeper than these medical
benefits gained. To illustrate with an example, I recently received bad news
from a friend over the phone one night. I didn’t sleep well because my mind was
trying to find a solution to be able to salvage the situation. The next day, I
let myself become completely absorbed in a cardio dance class which distracted
me from the problem entirely. When I was stretching on my own afterward, many
pieces of the puzzle suddenly came together and it became clear what I should
do. This is a small example, yet it helps exemplify this idea that physicality
impacts us in many ways that we can’t predict until we actually experience it.
These benefits can include, but are not limited to, clarity of thought,
unconditional self-acceptance, and an increased compassion toward others. It
all derives from an increased mind-body-spirit connection.
Matthew
Sanford beautifully elucidates this idea on his website using an example of how
one feels a different connection with his body by merely changing the way he
sits. He says, “what I mean by mind-body connection is simple. Sit back in your
chair, slouch and let your legs splay out. Notice what you feel in your legs —
the dullness, the lack of crispness. Now sit up straight, press gently down
through your buttock-bones and heels, and lift your chest. Notice the change in
sensation — in how, what and where you feel within your body. This is what I
mean by mind-body connection. When we deepen the quality of where and how our
minds interact and intersect with our bodies, our consciousness shifts. We get
more connected to our lives, to each other and to the planet” (Sanford).
Synthesizing
the ideas of compassion and physicality takes time and practice. It can be
helpful to begin with oneself. Physicality can enable one to experience a
deeper level of self-love and mindfulness as it helps one accept the past,
experience the present, and shape the future. The aforementioned Matthew
Sanford has come to intimately understand that compassion begins with healing
oneself through physicality. Sanford’s past was explained in the PEOPLE Magazine
article entitle “OM-AZING!” He was “paralyzed from the chest down at 13, when
his spinal cord was severed in a car crash that killed his father and older
sister.” This experience could have crushed Sanford, but instead of letting
that happen, he turned his life situation into an opportunity to connect with
himself and then look outward. After “dragging [his] body around” for twelve
years and graduating with a master’s degree in philosophy, a friend suggested
that Sanford meet with a yoga teacher she knew. “He did and noticed that
despite his limited movement, he felt newly aware of his body.” He explains
that “my life’s been hard—that doesn’t change… but as I do yoga poses I didn’t
know were possible, my view expands.”
Sanford’s experience isn’t a unique case, either. As yoga
student Susan Orem shares in the yoga book Moving Toward Balance, “during
my divorce, the mat became the only place I could cry. As soon as I stepped on
the mat in Mountain pose, I wept. It didn’t stop me from practicing, and I
didn’t look forward to practice as that specific release. I would be feeling
fine. Then boom. As soon as I focused on my body and breath, the gates were
opened for grief. My yoga practice offered me help every day. I didn’t have to
ask” (Yee and Zolotow, 17).
I have had a similar experience in a yoga class after the
breakup with my first boyfriend. I told myself that I had to be strong, so I
wouldn’t let myself cry in front of anyone. Yet as I exhausted myself
physically through the yoga poses, I came to feel that I didn’t have to hold
myself up by my emotional will power any longer. In the yoga class I gave
myself permission to be weak if I needed to. I let myself ride whatever wave of
emotion came to me naturally until the final relaxation pose of the class. It
was a release and in this process, I began to heal.
In the course of
healing oneself, it soon becomes natural to turn outward in compassion toward
others. Christopher McDougall’s book Born to Run tells the story of when
running coach, Joe Vigil, began to make this connection. “Vigil
had become convinced that the next leap forward in human endurance would come
from a dimension he dreaded getting into: character. Not the “character” other
coaches were always rah-rah-rah-ing about; Vigil wasn’t talking about “grit” or
“hunger” or “the size of the fight in the dog.” In fact, he meant the exact
opposite. Vigil’s notion of character wasn’t toughness. It was compassion.
Kindness. Love. … Perhaps all our troubles—all the violence, obesity, illness,
depression, and greed we can’t overcome—began when we stopped living as Running
People. Deny your nature, and it will erupt in some other, uglier way”
(McDougall, 91).
Deena Kastor (then Drossin) was taken
under the wings of Coach Vigil. It was explained that “posted on the wall of
Vigil’s office was the magic formula for fast running that, as far as Deena
could tell, had absolutely nothing to do with running: it was stuff like
“Practice abundance by giving back,” and “Improve personal relationships,” and
“Show integrity to your value system.”…Deena got it, and couldn’t wait to
start. Coach Vigil believed you had to become a strong person before you could
become a strong runner.... within a year, the aspiring baker was on her way to
becoming one of the greatest distance runners in American history.”
It
continues, “She crushed the field to win the national cross-country
championships, and went on to break the U.S. record in distances from three
miles to the marathon. At the 2004 Athens Games, Deena out lasted the
world-record holder, Paula Radcliffe, to win the bronze, the first Olympic medal
for an American marathoner in twenty years. Ask Joe Vigil about Deena’s
accomplishments, though, and near the top of the list will always be the
Humanitarian Athlete of the Year award she won in 2002” (McDougall, 119).
In the same book, another story is told of a Czech
soldier, “a gawky dweeb who ran with such horrendous form that he looked “as if
he’d just been stabbed through the heart, “ as one sportswriter put it. But
Emil Zatopek loved running so much that even when he was still a grunt in army
boot camp, he used to grab a flashlight and go off on twenty-mile runs through
the woods at night… In his combat boots… In winter.” In the 1952 Olympics in
Helsinki, Zatopek won two gold medals and decided to do an additional
competition of the marathon even though he had never run one before. A
hilarious story was told of how Zatopek ran up to the person running first
place in this marathon, Jim Peters, who was then the world-record holder and
running ten minutes under his own world-record pace. Zatopek asked him, “Excuse
me, this is my first marathon. Are we going too fast?” Peters sarcastically
replied, “No, too slow,” thinking that “if he was dumb enough to ask, he was
dumb enough to deserve any answer he got.” Zatopek took Peters at his word and
took off.
The
most amazing part of this race is that “when he burst out of the tunnel and
into the stadium, he was met with a roar: not only from the fans, but from
athletes of every nation who thronged the track to cheer him in. Zatopek
snapped the tape with his third Olympic record, but when his teammates charged
over to congratulate him, they were too late: the Jamaican sprinters had
already hoisted him on their shoulders and were parading him around the
infield. “Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be
sorry,” Mark Twain used to say. Zatopek found a way to run so that when he won,
even the other teams were delighted” (McDougall, 95).
Similarly, I was a part of a dance performance entitled Phalanx, choreographed by a graduating
senior, Aaron Hooper, for his senior honors project in the dance department in
2012. In one particular section, my choreography was a simple repeated sequence
and with each subsequent repetition an additional movement was added. In order
to make this movement interesting for viewers, he asked me to look inside
myself and find a story that this sequence represented. Soon, to me this
pattern came to represent the story of a friend who, at the time, was
considering suicide. In dancing his story, each repetition represented a day in
his life and after not too long, the movements took on the heavy quality of the
deep conversations we had been having. I came to feel the weight that he
carried within him. This physical experience helped me be able to express more
compassion toward him.
In the modern world, there is a phenomenon
which can be called “compassion fatigue.” The presence of this negatively
impacts all areas of our society from students’ learning in schools to
patients’ treatment in hospitals to seniors in assisted living homes to
customers in a grocery store. In Aycock and Boyle (2009), some interventions
for “compassion fatigue” are discussed including pastoral care, retreats,
emotional expression, and peer support. Each of these could potentially help,
but they tend to be aimed at controlling the symptoms. The emotional energy
required at work can be compared to a battery. These treatments are much like
recharging a battery as it drains. However, a better solution could be to not
only recharge the battery, but to also replace the battery with one which has a
larger reserve. Increasing the quantity and quality of physical activities is
like increasing the size of the battery while simultaneously recharging it. Of
course that isn’t to suggest that there will be less stress on the job.
However, physicality does give one a tool to get away from the situation,
release the stress that builds up, and to begin gaining a
greater compassion for self and others. For the human race which is only
growing greater in number and diversity, there is an enormous need for an
increase in compassion. Perhaps this compassion really is as simple to develop
as making a habit of taking walks, enrolling in a dance class, trying out yoga,
or any of hundreds of other physical possibilities.
Literature Cited
Aycock,
Nancy, and Deborah Boyle. "Interventions to Manage Compassion Fatigue in
Oncology Nursing." Clinical Journal of Oncology Nursing 13.2
(2009): 183-91. UNM Electronic Reserves. Web. 7 May 2014.
Compassion,
Beauty and Physicality. Perf. Krista Tippett. TED.
Meus Blog, 16 Feb. 2014. Web. 7 May 2014.
Mayo
Clinic Staff. "Exercise: 7 Benefits of Regular Physical Activity." Mayo
Clinic. Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research, n.d. Web. 7 May
2014.
McDougall,
Christopher. Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest
Race the World Has Never Seen. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009. Print.
"OM-AZING!"
PEOPLE 26 Feb. 2007: 131. Matthewsanford.com. Web. 7 May 2014.
Sanford,
Matthew. "Matthew's Vision." Matthews Vision. N.p., n.d. Web.
07 May 2014. <http://www.matthewsanford.com/content/matthews-vision>.
Yee,
Rodney, and Nina Zolotow. Moving toward Balance: 8 Weeks of Yoga with Rodney
Yee. Emmaus, PA: Rodale, 2004. Print.
