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Compassion…sympathetic pity and concern for the suffering or misfortunes of others.

Such a noble and wonderful notion. Buddha says that living a life of compassion is living in happiness. And I can see it. Being able to just sympathize with others, without judgment, without expectations, knowing that they are a kindred suffering soul that simply needs understanding.

I find that from afar I can cultivate compassion. But I struggle with those closest to me. I guess I think it’s hard to feel compassion for others when they’re experiences, what they are going through negatively impacts me. And because of that, I lack acceptance. It really saddens me, to know that I am this way, that my anger and fury are stronger than my love and compassion. That if something is painful to me, I can’t still look upon that person with understanding.

Compassion is difficult for me, a challenge. I admire those that can step away from their own selves and accept whatever happens. And accept it in a way that is both mundane and precious. To have a deepening understanding of another soul, to share and express openly, with compassion and love. To have debates, discussions, both verbal and non, to feel like someone’s presence is a dialogue. To know that whatever the outcome is, it’ll be alright b/c you came to the situation with compassion.

To have that, to cultivate that, is something I am striving for. I am at a loss on how to achieve it, but I am trying. I am starting with just trying to have compassion and love for myself. To allow myself to be who I am, and not trying to be what I admire and love in others. So hard. And it’s a long journey that will toil in my mind. One that will force me to question my own reality, opinions, beliefs…question me.

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