The Simple Act of Noticing

#1000speak

http://www.rileyillustration.com/artists?artist=pierre-le-tan
Illustration by Pierre Le Tan

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It was wintry.  Outside my windows, the streets of my quiet suburb were laid in dark grids across the map of night.  The children were sleeping, the fire was on. I was curled up on the sofa, reading a book.  And I heard a noise.  A high, panicked, voice. The sound of a body slamming against a wall, or a floor. A flurry of movement.

Must be someone’s TV.  Just some scary movie.

I returned to my book.  And there it was again.
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I knew.  That screaming voice was real.  That voice belonged to someone who was terrified.  I rushed out onto our balcony. I craned my head around the corner of the house in the direction of the noise.  A deeper voice shouted out

“This time, I am going to kill you!  I’m getting a knife!”

And all in a single moment, a woman fled onto the dark street.  Her nightie billowed around her in the blast of cold wind.  The whites of her eyes flashed in the black night.  And those eyes met mine.  I put my finger to my lips and frantically motioned for her to come through our gate.  She suddenly understood and slipped into our property while the man raged onward, almost now at his front door.  I could hear his daughter trying to reason with him.
“No Daddy, don’t kill her!” I was worried for that girl, but I knew that first I needed to get her mother to safety.

When I reached her, the words tumbled out of her mouth between breathy gasps. Her hands were shaking, fluttering up to her face. No, she couldn’t come inside, “I’m afraid” she whispered, her eyes imploring me for help, even as she refused to accept it. We compromised with her hiding out in the shed. I whispered that she must stay, breathe slowly, wait for me to return. And something big, like an angry mother lioness, began to grow inside me. I stormed out onto the street.  The man, someone I knew to be a friendly, sociable neighbour; wore a rage so deep and fathomless he seemed to have a face that was not his own.  All bluster, I demanded to know what he was doing waking up the neighbourhood. He tried to smile, shrug, appear conciliatory.  But it came out as a grimace, his rage fighting his need to appear normal. “It’s nothing, just looking for my wife” he answered through clenched teeth.  “Get in the car!” he yelled at his daughter.

“No,” I said, with a forcefulness that came from the lioness, “your daughter is coming home with me.  Go find your wife.  Go sort out your problems without dragging her into it!”  My voice lifted with indignation, as I put my arms around his daughter’s shoulders and steered her towards my house.  I was afraid he would see through the bravado (please, please don’t guess where your wife is).  And over my shoulder I hurled, “I will bring your daughter home in the morning when you have sorted it out, and I will not discuss this with you further!”.

He began to protest, and then abruptly, sped off. Somehow he still believed that his wife had run off into the neighbourhood, I imagine he thought she couldn’t have got far, not in her nightie, in public.  I rushed the girl inside.  I smuggled in her mother; so glad to know her daughter was inside too, safe. I was afraid that he might figure out any moment what I had done.  They hid in the room farthest away from our locked door.  In barely audible voices they talked about what to do next. They were so brave.

They called the police who arrived and located the man. The police took him into the house to pack and then took him away. Thanks to the police, to her courage, her daughter’s stalling tactics and the simple act of someone noticing, a new future opened up for her.  For the first time since her marriage, my neighbour and her daughter were free from a terrifying, hidden tyranny. None of us had even known it was going on.  The only thing I had ever noticed about their house was that they never drew the blinds.

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Don’t get involved, they tell us.  Don’t intervene. If you notice something, look away, forget you heard it.  It’s safer that way.  And maybe it is… but only for us.

It’s not safer for them.  What makes our safety any more important than theirs?  Aren’t we all just as valuable as each other?  I could have picked up the phone that night and called emergency services, but by the time I had, the murderous intent of that man could have erased a beautiful person from the earth.   She could be gone.  People need people. Women need women. We are meant to live in community.

Nearly two years have passed since that cold night.  My neighbour is now single, but very much alive. After the police helped her husband off the property that night, the marriage ended; he never crossed her threshold again.  But I still listen out. If I hear something I still stop what I am doing, to investigate. I will always remember that night. The importance of the simple act of noticing.

According to Daniel Goleman, the author of ‘Emotional Intelligence,’ studies have shown that our brains are actually hard-wired to help. We are pre-disposed to acting out of compassion.  I didn’t do what I did that night because I am inherently good, or kind.  Or even because I am foolhardy.  I barely had time to process what was happening until it was done.  I did what I did simply because I noticed something and I reacted to it.  I did what I did because I am human.

So if we are all innately helpful, why is there so much terror happening in the world?  Why the vacuum of compassion?  How has all this misogyny and violence and hatred escalated into so many wars?
Why don’t we notice each other?

Apparently, a surefire way to ‘turn off’ our inherent tendency toward helping, is by focusing on ourselves.  People who perpetrate acts of cruelty have turned off their innate compassionate wiring.  They are deeply absorbed in the justifications of their own thinking.  Their own creed.  Their own agenda. Themselves.  Even the mute onlooker, the passer by of someone suffering on the street.  That person is just as likely to be absorbed in something, self-involved; a phone, the next task, lunch. Selfishness distracts us from our better selves.

Look around you next time you are on a bus, or in a cafe, or doing the school run. When you are at work, or busy with your daily tasks.  How many people are completely absorbed in themselves?  Have you recently taken the time, without your handheld device or distracting thoughts, to focus on someone else?  To really notice how they are?  To ask them, even? To observe people, be aware of their human value. To seek moments of connection.  When we pause from the demanding distractions of every day life, our natural human instincts have an opportunity to operate. Maybe we need only to do this in our own homes, our own neighbourhoods, our own communities.  Perhaps if we all did this, more humankindness would have a chance to flourish. We could grow something really beautiful. And it might even spread beyond the boundaries of our suburbs, it could even stretch out to cover the whole wide world.

Today, a thousand Bloggers are uniting on one front.  Today we are all writing about compassion. The aim is to provide an antidote to the violence and destruction in our world.  The hope is that by discussing compassion, we can help it grow. You can search under the hashtag #1000speak.  Will you join us in speaking up about compassion today?  Tweet about it, talk about it?

You can even practise a bit of compassion in this very moment.  Look up from your corner of the world. In the simple act of noticing; that is where compassion begins.

And if you want to, you can watch Daniel Goleman’s TED talk on compassion here, please do watch, it is so worth it:

To see more of the posts written as part of the #1000Speak campaign, see the link-up below:
http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=497564

The Religion of my Heart #1000speak

On the 20th February, #1000speak will have it’s day.

#1000speak is a blogging movement for compassion. Over a thousand bloggers will be writing about compassion on the same day, in an attempt to bring more balance to world.  In an attempt to focus on the beautiful things about humanity.  The way we are able to get alongside one another and help each other, empathise with one another and even take action toward making life better for others.

Compassion

The subject of compassion is one that is close to my heart. A huge part of my purpose in blogging, has always been to improve awareness and understanding about people with ‘invisible’ illness.  Why?  So that people will have more compassion towards the people in their community who are suffering. Invisible illness sufferers, people with chronic illness or invisible disabilities are not the only people suffering, but they are people whose suffering I understand first hand. I know how desperately frightening, lonely and difficult it can be, living with an illness people neither see or understand. And I want to write words to help people see it, to help people understand it. I hope that my blog, my efforts will make a difference for someone.  I hope that their families and close circle might read the words of someone like me, who knows what it is like to deal with the things their loved one is burdened with.  I hope that my words might give them access to a new comprehension of how it is for them. It’s why I wrote this post, Imagine.  It is still the post that draws the biggest numbers, because it explains chronic illness in a way that any person can understand it.  If you are struggling to find a way to explain your illness to your friends and family, share Imagine with them.

When you look at the latin root words for compassion, you will see why compassion is so central to my purpose.  Com means withPati means suffering.  Compassion means to suffer with.  It is closely aligned with empathy, but not the same thing.   Back in June, I wrote this when I was reflecting on my relationship with religion, it is deeply entwined with my thoughts on compassion, so I thought I’d include it here.

“My soul has been trying to get it right.  I try hard to show kindness where ever I can.  This is part of the religion of my heart.  I try to see all people for who they are without the damage that has been inflicted upon them.  I try to bring thoughtfulness and calm.  I try to connect and cherish.  I try to make the step toward a person rather than take a step back.  I try to add value to the world through the children I have brought into it, by helping them build character and strong values. I try to practise compassion and most of the time, I succeed. I believe in choices and consequences and the importance of making sound decisions.  I believe that we are all important, regardless of creed or religion.  And in my ‘religion’, I think having a good laugh at myself and at anything ridiculous is good for the soul”.

As I prepare for my February 20 post on compassion, I’ll be posting things here on the blog and on the blog facebook page.  What the world needs now is more compassion.  When we can suffer with each other, regardless of the differences between us, we will find a new road towards peace, love and understanding.

Watch this from Brene Brown:
https://vimeo.com/81492863