Caring Again

I could never stop caring. Even when I want to, my heart burns inside of me with the pain of those around me. Even when I want to believe that I could focus on my own pain, my own problems, I still feel what they feel. I know I’m not literally feeling it. But I cannot help but imagine what they are feeling, to want to do something about it, even in situations when I can’t.

I remember the time I killed a spider. I do it all the time and I never think twice. But there was this one time. I let it live in my window for a month and a half until it got cold. At first it would run away when I would open or close the window, but gradually it got used to me. I had never hurt it, so it just stayed still. I became afraid that it would come all the way inside as it grew colder, I guess. But what could it really have done? But out of my concern for myself, I killed it. And it sat there and let me. It knew all that time I wouldn’t hurt it because I never had. And then I did. Worse than that, I killed it. And it didn’t even move an inch when I came in with a tissue to end its life.

That may seem petty to you. Ridiculous that I would even care about something that stupid and small. But I can’t help but feel as though I betrayed something. I let my concern for myself override my compassion for others, and that one instance has bothered me for the last three years. It doesn’t mean I never kill spiders. It just means I don’t let them trust me and then kill them, and if I can avoid killing them, I do.

You might think I’m one of those crazy people who is all for not killing anything at all under any circumstance. But stay with me for a minute.

As I drove home today from school, I had a lot weighing on my mind. But I tried not to let it undermine my happiness about my graduation. And then I saw this deer. It had been hit by a car and was still in the road. But as I passed, I saw it move. Its breath steamed in the cold air. It was still alive. Just lying there, waiting to be hit again at the bottom of a hill. I did everything I could think to do, and the man who had hit it came back to end its life. I was just glad it wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

I could have kept driving. I could have thought, I’m not equipped to do anything in this situation, so I don’t need to try. I could have said that it wasn’t worth it or I could have ignored it in order to continue focusing on my attempt to remain happy. But I couldn’t do that. How could I put my own happiness before something like that? It didn’t even enter my mind.

I am moved by compassion regularly. People tell me it makes me a good person. But does that really define a good person? Shouldn’t people just feel that way anyway? But I get caught up on things just as much as other people. It isn’t till it’s staring me in the face, just like tonight, that I am moved enough to act.

It bothers me that I let things pass so often that I could have prevented or at the very least helped with. And it bothers me that it can be so easy to just ignore the suffering in the world. It bothers me most during the times that I find myself unable to ignore it. When I feel so strongly about something that I can’t let it pass. Because I don’t know why I can at other times. And I don’t know how people can every day. How can we pass something or someone suffering and do nothing or think that we can’t or shouldn’t help? I can’t understand the feeling. And yet I feel it in myself. Sometimes I want that. Sometimes I don’t want to have to deal with the death and suffering this world throws at us, as though if I ignore it, it’s not really there because I am not thinking about it. But I simply don’t have that option.

Death is a part of this world. Suffering is a part of this world. Pain is a part of this world. That’s the reality of it. And if that’s reality, then isn’t there anything we can do about it, that we should do about it? Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like as people who say we follow God, we should be willing to put ourselves aside a little more often for the sake of those around us to alleviate the suffering we see in the world. Or at the very least to not add to it.