As the pandemic does not seem to lose its grip on the country, as the fears for our health and wellbeing deepens, as the rage over racial inequality continues to move us to demand real change, and as the economic uncertainty continue to create deep anxieties, I turned, in my daily meditation, to the concept of rachamim, usually translated as gentleness or compassion.
The word rachamim comes from the root r-ch-m (resh-chet-mem). That is a root shared by the Hebrew word for womb, rechem. Although there is scholarly debate if the two words share the same root, I like to think that there is a profound connection between the word for compassion and the word for womb. I can think of compassion as the protection a fetus has at the mother’s womb, removed from all the tensions of modern life as I described above. I can also think of rachamim as sibling love, as the gentleness or compassion of people who share the same emotional space.
The world is in dire need of rachamim, of gentleness, of compassion.
We are reacting to the challenges of everyday life by showing the raw edges of our anger. It is hard to keep centered, to keep a balance of our emotions in check as we read, or listen, or watch the daily news. We must keep our emotional equilibrium so we can be functional human beings in this world. I believe we achieve stability when we apply rachamim to the way in which we act in this world. We start by having compassion and being gentle with ourselves. We must have a clear understanding of our actions and reactions as we examine all situations. Let me share with you my own development. I used to have the bad habit of reviewing the words I said and the actions I took. At first I would be angry with myself, and then I would follow that feeling with a good dose of self-rebuke. The negative judgments would pile on, as I reviewed the scenarios and thought about all the things I said and didn’t think of saying at that moment, and all the reactions I had or that I didn’t have at that moment. Anger, frustration, and a feeling of victimization would color all my actions. Then I learned to cradle my heart in my hand gently, and offer it much needed compassion. As the hurt and the pain decreased, the anger and fear that clouded my vision would slowly dissipate, and a clear picture would form in my mind of the situation and of the actions of others.
As I judged myself with more rachamim, I could also extend the gentleness and compassion to others, understanding that others were hurting, that there were motivations for their actions that escaped my limited perception, and deescalate the negativity in my heart. I wasn’t excusing anyone, nor was I lessening my responsibility for certain situations. As I developed more self-compassion, it became easier to have compassion for others.
The world is in need of compassion, and I suggest that we start with ourselves. I invite you to take your hearts in your hands and gently offer it compassion. Start by exploring, with curiosity and not judgement, the reasons for your actions. Instead of berating yourself for not doing enough, giving enough, participating enough, give yourself some rachamim, and balance all of that by remembering the actions that you took, the things you did, the accomplishments. As you realize that you are human, taking responsibility without excusing, it becomes easier to extend compassion to other human beings. As we extend that compassion, it becomes easier to see people for who they are, instead of judging them for their affiliation, for their participation in one thing or another, for their actions or inactions. The more compassion we offer the easier it is to hear their points, to communicate clearly where you stand, to understand each other in a better way. We increase peace in this world when we speak and hear with compassion.
I wish, for us and for the world we live in, much rachamim, our ability to be gentle with our and others’ hearts, so we can increase peace and understanding in this world.