Reach Out: Compassion Will Help Other People…and Yourself
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<p>I just got back from the doctor’s. My legs landed me there because I was so swollen and in pain due to a chronic condition. I was juggling a cane and my bag to make my way into the Uber driver’s car. “Get your ass into this car,” I chided myself. “Don’t let him come around and help you.”</p>
<p>Of course, he came around and it took about 10 minutes to get me into his ride. My dress got caught up in my bag and without a thought, he untangled it. I was sniffling as we took off. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get there.” “I’ll get you right up to the door and you can have my arm.” I gently refused. Not because I didn’t need it, but because I hated feeling so vulnerable. But when we got there, there was no refusing him. He delivered me to the door.</p>
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<p>He didn’t cure my pain. He didn’t take away my fear. But he confronted the things I was afraid of — falling, being dependent, looking needy and pathetic.</p>
<p><em>He gave me compassion</em>. And I accepted it. <em>It wasn’t graceful, but it was full</em> <em>of</em> <em>grace</em>. He treated me with a combination of tenderness and respect. And when we said, “Goodbye,” it was as if we had completed a transaction, one in which we were <em>both</em> enriched. He took the chance of being kind and I took the chance of accepting it. I was reminded again, that <em>feeling humble is</em> <em>not the same as being humiliated</em>.</p>
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