Healing Hearts

Self-absorption in all its forms kills empathy, let alone compassion. When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But when we focus on others, our world expands. Our own problems drift to the periphery of the mind and so seem smaller, and we increase our capacity for connection -- or compassionate action.

- Daniel Goleman

I had just finished my CompSci exam. As I walked up the countless stairs from the LSRC, I got out my phone and saw a text, "Esha, can you meet me in the library? I have a few last minute questions for Italian."

We sat down on the couches, he across the coffee table from me. "How do you conjugate reflexive verbs? Is it svegliarsi or svegliare? Do you use 'essere' or 'avere' with vivere for passato prossimo?

He was done asking his questions and we sat in silence. For several moments, I was engaged in my conjugations. "Hey, Esha, what are you doing this summer?" I continued to stare at my paper while trying to answer his question. "I'm not so sure yet. My plans keep changing." I continued writing. Addormentarsi. Ci voglio. 'a' vs. 'in.' Preposizione semplice o preposizione articoli. L'imperfetto o Passato Prossimo.

"I read your story in the magazine."

I laughed, "Did you now?" half believing him.

"No, I really did."
I guess a part of me was touched that someone actually found more substance in the article then just talking about my pictures.  

All of a sudden, the questions came. One after another. Not Italian. But about me. He was genuinely interested in listening.

Since the conversation I had with him today, I have not stopped thinking about all he said. All he made me realize. All that he made me think of.

"Esha, you know what I hate about that article?"

What?

"The fact that people are going to think they know you and think they understand what you have been through....when in reality, it's not that simple.  I know there's so much you have to be going through on a daily basis, and I know that no one will ever be able to understand you in the way you need or want someone to.  But you know what I love most about the article?"

I sat in responsive silence.

"The fact that anyone that reads the article will realize that there are people like you among them. I or anyone else here looks at you and sees right off a beautiful, well-dressed, sweet, intelligent girl. I'm sure you get the 'your life must be perfect.'"

He had no idea.

Or did he?

"I'm sure that you've also gotten the 'oh, I'm so sorry to hear that.' or 'you must be so strong.'"

I sat now in wondering silence.

"It bothers me that people say that to someone who obviously knows that she is strong, and I'm sorry to say that the 'I'm sorry to hear that' usually comes with a very condescending tone."

He just knew.

He told me that it wasn't that I needed people to tell me I was strong or pity me. He told me it was about finding the commonalities, finding a way to connect to me, and being an ear to listen to.

How did he know?

This senior, whom I had spoken to on only two occasions, was about to finish his final exam at Duke, and here he was engaging in conversation. "I can tell you're worried about me not studying," he said, "but this is far more important to me."

He told me about his experience in Common Ground at Duke, which usually hosts a retreat during Fall and Spring Breaks. It puts people in a whole new light and shows a side of Duke that we so rarely see. Talks usually center about gender, race, and sexuality. People share their deepest emotions, stories, and experiences. He told me it would probably not be for me, yet he continued to talk about it.

He told me about a girl that shared her experience with rape. Not a tear shed. Not a quiver in her voice. Everyone around her exclaimed. "Oh you must be so strong!"

Over the years, he examined, that just because a person doesn't cry when he or she shares something so personal, does not mean that he or she is okay, or even over it. So much that he said got me thinking.

I, myself, am guilty of thinking that someone is okay. But then I thought about my own experiences. The pain is ALWAYS there. It never leaves. Ever. It becomes a part of each of us. No one ever gets "over" something in the way we think. 

He told me that my article in the magazine was merely a polaroid shot of my life. What did that mean? How much can you gather from a photograph of a birthday, a wedding, a graduation..or any other occasion. There is always a sequence of events, of emotions, of conversations, that are never told through a photograph.

Just like that, when someone shares something that has occurred in his or her life, it is merely a snapshot. Every experience is different. Whether you've lost a friend, a sister, a brother, a son, a daughter, a father, or like myself, a mother....whether you've been harassed, abused, assaulted...whether you've suffered a disorder, an illness...whether you've been traumatized by things you've seen...whether you've been discriminated against...or a cascade of events of the like...you all have a different sequence of events. No one can never know what you have been through.

Each one of us takes each situation differently. No one can ever know your emotions during each situation, your pain, your distress, how you endured, how you were lost, how you gave up, how you found your way again. No one can ever comprehend YOUR situation. I think about my sisters and myself and realize that though we went through similar circumstances, each of us were in a different place, at a different age, placed in different situations, and reacted differently. I can never know exactly how my little sister felt. She can never know exactly what I went through. So many things happened to each of us. So many feelings we each encountered.

No one can ever know.

But that's not what is important.

The important this is finding the commonalities, finding the "common ground" so to speak.

We meet people every day, and the point is not for them to know you or understand you.

The best part about meeting new people is getting to know them, finding what you have in common, sharing a part of yourself, while taking in a part of them. For one another, we can be an open ear, a caring soul, a loving heart. For one another, we can be an inspiration. For one another, we can be a friend. 

As Rachel Naomi Reme put it best....

 "The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention.... A loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words."

I wondered how this young man was so mature and understanding, how he thought the way he did, how he was able to make me think. He told me he was a completely different Freshman, and now that he was graduating, he had met so many people with so many different backgrounds, he had been through so much, and he had slowly become into the man he is today. And he still has yet to learn, he acknowledged.

I realized today, that the most powerful connection I've had at Duke with anyone has been with this one friend, not because he spoke to me, not because he listened to me, but because he made me think. He was fully engaged in conversation, not trying to impress, not trying to "be there." But in a way, he was. That kind of friendship touches you for a lifetime.

I'm never going to remember him for his status, for his intelligence, for his kindness. And I, myself, never want to be remembered for the way I look, what I become, what I accomplish...the most important thing that he will be remembered for, and I want to be remembered for when I am no longer, is my connection to people. The relationships I form between each and everyone of you, even those of you reading this right now. To be remembered for forming a bond. To be remembered for touching a life, hopefully your life, forever.

So often, we get caught up in becoming something, in making a name, in succeeding. We get caught up in work and friends and fun, none of it being wrong, of course. But with those friends, we so rarely take a moment away from the title of "friend" or "sister" or whomever. In the end, it's all about the connection.

In the last moments of life, I will not remember you for your grades, your looks, your status, your degrees, your actions. I will remember you for being a part of healing my heart, through making it less lonely, for forming a deep, everlasting bond of friendship. Without even trying.