I bite my tongue and swallow my frustration. For the umpteenth time, I had to explain where we are to my aunt, who has a slight case of dementia. Surely she would forget as quickly as the words leave my mouth.
What stops me from giving up on my poor aunt is the story about a son getting fed up with his aging dad’s asking, only to discover in his father’s diary his replying to the son’s countless inquisitive questions while a child.
There is no qualifier in compassion. It is a pure emotion. When we become self-focused, we let the negative side of our feeling seeping in. This results in a lose-lose for both the giving and receiving. An outcome I don’t want with my aunt or anybody for that matter.
How do you see compassion?