I wanted to share an anecdote with all of you (whoever might be reading this) because I thought it was interesting and illuminating, and I hope it might resonate with some of you.
Recently, I've been reading a fantastic series of books by Bruce Perry, a PhD/MD child psychologist who specializes in working with children who have been through traumatic experiences. For example he worked with the kids who escaped the Branch Davidian complex in Waco, TX. His first book is called "The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog", and as the name suggests there is a story about a child who was raised - actually with some affection, if you can believe that - by a misguided and lonely old man who was a dog kennel breeder and had no support structure. The child was brought up with plenty of food and medical care, and even loved in a certain way, but didn't get the sort of daily socializing that generally toddlers get. As Dr. Perry shows in the book, this lack of basic human connection; being held, being smiled at, having our toes counted - results in some drastic impairments, the most obvious of which is a lack of empathy.
Essentially, we now have the hard science to show that empathy begets empathy, and that a lack of empathy - particularly as a child - breeds a lack of empathy. For those who work in the softer disciplines, like social work or meditation, this is hardly surprising. But for many of us with more scientific backgrounds, it's pretty breathtaking to see the connection so vividly.
Which brings me to my story. Last week, I went to a therapy session which was being held out in Oakland, at a healing center. I won't mention what the therapy was, or where the healing center was, because I don't want to discredit them. I'd agreed to travel out to that center because it was easier for my therapist. She was bringing along another therapist friend to help with the session. I was paying a good deal for this hour therapy session. Unfortunately, her friend didn't text her to tell her where to pick her up until it was too late. That made my therapist late to our appointment (by 20 minutes). I didn't know this, so I showed up on time. I rang the doorbell and the woman who answered seemed wary. I mentioned the name of my therapist and she said "Oh, she's not here yet. Can you wait outside?" and pointed at a bench. Her body language made clear that I was not welcome inside. I should mention that it was quite cold, and there was a combination lock on the door.
Now, let's just stop the story there and think about this. I was getting *therapy*, at a *center for healing*. In fact, a temple of sorts. And yet, I was being asked to wait outside in the cold!
The point of this story is not that the woman who answered the door is mean, or was wrong. Nor that my therapist is a bad person. They live in an environment where their actions made sense. Undoubtedly the woman at the center had been told not to let customers wait inside without a host. She did not know my therapist personally, and in fact may even have been a competitor of sorts. They may even have had problems with crime, or people taking advantage of them. And my therapist was late because she, and her friend, are extremely busy people, travelling across town.
Imagine, for a moment, that this situation had taken place as little as 50 years ago. I wasn't born then, of course, but from my elders and books I get the sense that this wouldn't have happened. Likely, my therapist would not have been late, because she would have already been at her office (instead, my therapist, like many others, rents space at various places to make ends meet). Her friend would have arrived well in advance of the appointment (likely in her own car). The temple would most likely not have even been locked. If I had arrived early, the secretary (what a luxury!) would most likely have offered me coffee, and a comfortable chair to sit in while I waited. She might have even apologized for the inconvenience, even if it wasn't her fault.
The point is this: we live in an environment which has a serious empathy deficit. We are simply too busy, too self-focussed, and conditioned to respond to people without empathy, even in situations where empathy might be called for, such as a meditation center or a temple. We are trained to provide suspicion. We are rewarded for being so busy that we don't have time to help a friend or even say a kind word. People who are genuinely gentle and empathetic make us feel awkward, or even nervous. This is a self-perpetuating problem: being treated that way reinforces the cycle. Altruism is tenuous: once we no longer believe that others will selflessly help us, it becomes a self-fullfilling prophecy.
I'm not saying I know the answer, but I think it's important to engage the problem. What do you think?
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