On The Nature Of Human Empathy

In a world that is always moving, there is an underlying problem that has begun to plague the human heart — and the disease is quickly spreading. I find it difficult to express this point as I’ve been affected by it too, for far too long. The inability to care for our fellow human has grown increasingly evident over time, and the truth is that we may not find a cure before it is too late.

There is far too much judgement towards others, and not enough judgment towards ourselves. Rather than trying to understand where the disconnect lies within, we look outward to find problems in others — creating a projection of what we believe is our problem when it is not. What another person does with their time is their own business. Still, every action carries consequences — and with that, a responsibility to maintain self-awareness. Though instead of this, we’ve become avoidant in nature.

What is wrong with admitting that faults in humans exist? Why do we so desperately strive to be perfect? A person’s imperfections are exactly what makes them perfectly human, and that is all we are. We are not gods, nor idols. We are nothing more than people trying to find relevance in a world that lacks any real sense of collective unity, and that is okay.

A puzzle does not consist of just one piece, but of many — different shapes and sizes, with all sorts of imagery that sets them apart. There is not one piece of a puzzle that is the same as the other, and that is what makes each one so unique. You try for hours to find that specific piece to fit the mold, and when you finally do, everything fits together — and then you find happiness.

A symphony doesn’t consist of merely one instrument. There are many, and each one plays its part in the orchestra, contributing to the final masterpiece. Once you have the proper notes, the melody creates itself — in perfect harmony. We forget that we as a species are no different than a band of instruments that, when played correctly, will form such a beautiful melody that it can be heard all throughout the heavens. Each instrument — each puzzle piece — is irreplaceable in the symphony of life. When a piece is missing, or a melody is out of tune, the momentum falters.

I wonder about this quite often, as I see the world in such disarray. Broken instruments — pieces missing — and it doesn’t seem like anyone truly understands how to fix it, or where to look, and I’m not entirely sure anyone is truly trying.

People are often misled by their beliefs — by a dogmatic fervor that blinds even as they try to see clearly… but perhaps that is not what they want. To believe in something that is generally accepted can be considered a form of fitting in. Humans are drawn to this. We are natural companions that always seek to find ourselves within others, and with this we gain a form of empathy towards likeminded people. However, this empathy does not extend to anyone outside the sphere of common interest. In fact the opposite becomes an attribute we seldom admit: antipathy — a deep, instinctive aversion to the unfamiliar. When life’s energy source is emotion, humans will take this to heart. Emotion, after all, is a form of energy in motion — and its nature is quite misunderstood. If you can understand that all things operate under the principle of duality, then you will find that there are only two core emotions: Love and Fear. All other emotions form a rotating spectrum around these two poles, creating two distinct pathways for one to follow. The positives fall under love while the negatives fall under fear. It is all a matter of perspective.

For every one, there is an opposite two, and a scale to weigh them. For every two, there is a third that creates a balance. A body cannot exist without the mind, and a mind without the body, but neither can exist in harmony without the energy that flows through them. That energy is what is called the spirit. Without spirit, we are merely animals acting on material instinct. There is no empathy in that, and there is certainly no harmony. It is not a religious concept, nor a scientific one. It is a human one — and no matter what our differences in beliefs might be, to believe in something takes energy, and that energy is our spirit.

There are so many things in the world that are divisive solely based on fear and love — concepts, beliefs, ideologies, memories, possibilities — though none are truly set in stone on a cosmic level. They all seem rather derivative from the love of the mind interacting with the fear of the body. In fact, it is often the mind that fears when thinking of the body, and it is the body that loves when thinking of the mind.

It seems, however, that the spirit has thinned itself to a great extent within the confines of society. There are many that no longer feel it, and thus no longer feel as though they serve a greater purpose. Earthly pleasures and quick dopamine fixes have gripped our hearts — tight enough to suffocate. In that desperation, fear finds a crack to slip through — quiet, unnoticed, but deeply corrosive. We become dependent upon artificial cravings for what we believe to be something that we love, but in fact we fear an existence without it. It becomes us, consumes our psyche, and rests upon the throne of our ego. With such an impulsive mindset behind an easily entranced body, nothing positive can arise. Fear begets darkness, and darkness is a void filled by emptiness. The only path from there is one towards entropy and total destruction of the self. This is caused by antipathy, hatred towards all that is good and empathetic in the world — and that, itself, is anti-human.

I do not believe that humans are good nor evil by nature, but begin in the center of it all. Our experiences in life are what govern the type of energy that flows through us, and although at first we are unable to consciously decide how positive or negative energy affects us, we have the ability as we age to go back and mend the broken parts of our psyche — through our memories.

We have the capability to reflect on all that has happened within our life and in turn try to understand their reasonings. Our bodily movements through time might follow a straight path forward, but our minds do not. Our past is only a memory away, while our future is only a thought away. We have this gift of seeing things that exist beyond the purview of the present moment, and yet these thoughts are often swallowed whole by negative forces. Saddened by the past, and fearful of the future; One has already happened, while the other is yet to be. The truth, however, is that we can only experience the present moment, but how can we do so when we are constantly in our heads?

I believe that this is where things have come to a head. Technology has grown quite advanced over the last several decades, and although we have gained a way to collectively communicate with all the people in the world, we have allowed ourselves to give up who we truly are. We seek to change our identity rather than embrace our true nature — solely to feed an ego that is attention-starved — but let me tell you. When you stop caring about the attention that people give you, you will begin caring about the people that give you attention. No amount of dopamine can ever replace genuine human connection.

With technology we have ultimately defeated natural loneliness, and replaced it with something artificial — loneliness from not being seen by strangers. In the age of technology, the present moment is lonelier than all the people in the world, for hardly anyone comes to visit it.

I believe that it should be generally acceptable to admit one’s own faults and imperfections, as that is what makes us human. We are not machines, nor apparitions. We are so much more than what is believed in the modern era. We are only as dead in life as we choose to be, because we have the ability to revive ourselves for as long as we are breathing. All that is required is effort. An instrument that is out of harmony need only be tuned in order to play properly, and all I can see in this world right now are untuned instruments, or instruments that were never tuned to begin with.

I wish that it was apparent to the world that this is the path that we have chosen as a society. There is a fix for everything, though it will never be as perfect as it once was — but within each crack is a history of a before and an after. A once perfect and ordinary sculpture that became an imperfect and magnificent work of art. Perfection isn’t the goal. The cracks tell the story. What matters is the effort to put the pieces back together — and in doing so, allow the light to shine through once more. That is the cure to the disease. And we must search for it.