Radical

I wonder when having empathy made you a radical human. I read Parable of the Sower as a child and become very interested in the idea of hyper-empathy. I did not know that practicing and holding space for empathy was radical then, nor did I know how important it would be now.

Sometimes it seems like I can feel the world and it doesn’t feel good to me because of the things people do to each other. When I close my eyes and I reach out, the hairs on my body stand on end.

Why? When did this happen to us? Has all the blood spilled finally filled up our glasses? Even if you resist feeding from the bloodbath, they’ll hold open your mouth and make you drink until eventually you’re numb too.

This world seems intangible to me. I feel ineffectual, at best. I feel incredibly small and alone. I hate the parts of humanity I cannot change. I fear the parts I can. My inaction feels immovable.