Having Compassion for Awful People

This is the title of an excellent article by author David Michie. And it was the topic of my talk to a meditation group recently. Our meditators were genuinely intrigued by it.

David tells the story of a monk, Palden Gyatso, who was jailed by the Chinese when they invaded Tibet. He endured 33 years of prison and torture until he was released in 1992. After that horrendous experience, he told the Dalai Lama his greatest fear was of losing his compassion for his jailers!

He knew anger, bitterness, and resentment would only make him suffer more. He knew that habitually holding these toxic emotions would produce a destructive inner environment, eliminating the chance of a calm mind or a sense of well-being.

This is an amazing story of an extreme scenario. Indeed, we have far less of a challenge than he did.

But it gives us something to think about. We know what long-term stress can do to the body: hypertension, chronic inflammation, a compromised immune system, and more. So, we sit back and think, “Why am I allowing that awful person to take up residence in my mind? Hashing over and over how bad that person is when that person probably gives no thought to my feelings or opinion?”.

I will tell you a story. There was a relative who was an awful person living in my mind. I judged this person. I thought very little of this person. I listed the offenses and mean actions when I thought of her. She was occupying a part of me, and not a good part.

A few years ago, I set an intention to release this samskara as I flew across the country to my annual silent retreat with the Chopra Center. A samskara is a past imprint held within your being, and it can get ‘triggered’ by a thought, event, or memory that may cause more negative feelings. I was done with this habitual pattern.

As always, around the fourth or fifth day of a retreat, I thought, “I haven’t had any insights; nothing is happening!”. Until it did.

As I sat meditating, a strong feeling of compassion for this ‘awful person’ began to well up in my lower belly. It was visceral. It gently moved up my spine and throat, blossoming within my head like a torrent of love! My whole body was a field of love! Including for her. And tears spilled from my eyes. This is our divine, natural state, possible for everyone.

Later, I wrote about it in my journal and decided to tell everyone at the end of the retreat when we shared our experiences. I took the microphone and told them what I had experienced, with tears in my eyes. Someone raised their hand and asked, “Are you going to make up with her now? Invite her back into your life?”

I said, “No, this was for me. I don’t need to get wrapped up in that anymore. She is on her own path.”

In actuality, what has changed is that the resentment and anger are gone. I don’t wish her any harm, and I would help if no one else would. I care, but I also accept that people must excise their own demons. Only she can do that.