"Compassion is the antitoxin of the soul: where there is compassion, even the most poisonous impulses remain relatively harmless".

– Eric Hoffer

I have chosen this quote because it completes a thought I include at the beginning of almost all my presentations. For those of you who have seen me present, you may remember how I begin by asking the audience to describe the type of stressors or difficult people that have been problematic for them in the past. Once I have this list, I then ask them to describe how they found themselves reacting to these situations and people. As you might imagine, this produces a long list of problems and problematic reactions which tend to feed off each other and create a cycle of stress, frustration, and resentment. After this cycle has been validated by the participants, I show them a quote on resentment that never fails to produce a knowing smile. The quote is from Malachy McCourt and says: "Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die!"

I love this quote because it seems to resonate with all who hear it, and allows us to recognize how resentment (while an understandable reaction to many of the problems in today's world) may not be working for us. Of course, we now know that the reason this poisonous reaction is less than desirable is that resentment is actually a chemical change triggered by the lower 20% of our brain, and thus only helpful when we are in a fight-or-flight situation. However, what is the alternative? Should we just try to feel less resentful?

I'm going to suggest that we move beyond just avoiding the problem and choose a more purposeful reaction which is where today's quote comes in: "Compassion is the antitoxin of the soul." In other words, if resentment is the poison, maybe compassion is the antitoxin. For example, I think it was Stephen Covey who first told the story of the priest who was taking a trip on a train, and found that he was having difficulty enjoying the experience because of the family of rowdy children that were running wild in the same car in which he was riding. There was a man who seemed to be the children's father although he was not interacting with the children, a brother and sister who never stopped screaming at each other, and a baby that cried constantly and clearly needed a fresh diaper. After an hour or so of this chaos, the priest could hold in his resentment no longer, and demanded of the father, "Who's in charge of these children? Where is their mother?" The father, who had been able to do nothing but gaze blankly out the window turned to the priest and said, "Their mother was killed in an automobile accident three days ago, she is in a coffin in the rail car behind us." . . . As you might imagine, the priest's resentment immediately turned to compassion for this poor man and his family, and he willingly and lovingly began to do what he could to help.

What happened in this story was that compassion changed the poison of resentment to love. However, what brought about this transformation was not a change in the situation, but a change in the perspective of the priest. He became aware of what this family had lost, and the resulting compassion changed his experience of the situation and, thus, his reaction to it. Now, I'm not saying that we "should" feel compassion for difficult people, or that we have no "right" to be resentful when people treat us with what we perceive to be a lack of respect. I'm just suggesting that if our goal is to become more purposeful in creating our experience of life, and we have the ability to choose between resentment and compassion, compassion might be a choice that is more congruent with our highest purpose.

The truth is, we can never know what has triggered another's behavior (what they have lost). It could be their job, their self-respect, their faith, their ability to trust, or their spouse, or their child. However, If we can see another's difficult behavior as a reaction to some loss, we can see them as "grieving" versus "difficult", or "frightened" versus "frightening." We can then use our compassion to create our response "on purpose", or in a way that is congruent with who we really are, and who we wish to become. Given that there seem to be more than enough toxins in our lives today, maybe embracing the antitoxin of compassion could be just the medicine we need, and just what the world needs as well.

Take care and God bless, Dr. Bill