Maren

Wow.  Different experience yesterday.

I went to the steps of the huge downtown public library, in Copley Square.  The library sits right across the street from the Boston Marathon bombing memorial.  I always enjoyed giving empathy on the steps of the downtown Portland public library; and right near a memorial for a very emotionally charged event seemed like the perfect place to sit.

I arrived around 3:00 in the afternoon.  Almost as soon as I sat down, a woman came up, smiling, and asked to photograph me.  I agreed, and asked her to also take one with my camera (pictured above).

After that, though, I got almost no response for about 20 to 30 minutes.  Occasional smiles or photos, but mostly a whole lot of nothing.  I wondered whether I needed to choose a new location.

And then.

A man in his early 60s, casually but neatly dressed, approached and asked me if I were asking for empathy or offering it.  When I said I was offering it, he began almost immediately to speak very intensely about what sounded like an incredibly painful experience he was living through.  He got more and more emotionally agitated, and he spoke for about half an hour.  His voice got louder and louder.  He gestured broadly.  He expressed anger, and at one point some tears welled up. His energy built and built.  His saliva became foamy.  His words, tone, and body language conveyed an almost unbearable desperation about the situation.

I could not tell whether his story was “real,” or whether some mental condition had conjured an elaborate, agonizing ordeal that he simply believed to be real.  The story involved multiple court cases; a newborn son in the Philippines whom he was not allowed to see, and who might be at risk of being sold; harassment and arrests by various law enforcement agencies, despite no legal or moral wrongdoing on his part; and multiple unanswered letters and phone calls to various government agencies, both locally and overseas.

He kept saying things like, “Who will listen to me?” and “Who will help me?”  But he didn’t seem to be actually seeking responses.  I listened intently for about ten minutes – while onlookers paused and took in the scene, wearing a variety of facial expressions – but then he began moving slightly down the sidewalk, addressing others on the library steps rather than me.  He shouted toward them for about another fifteen minutes.  I wondered if this opportunity for expression was helping him in some way.  I hoped it was.  However, the lack of immediate, tangible “help” from anyone listening seemed to disappoint, frustrate, and sadden him.  When he finally walked away, throwing a half-hearted “Thanks for your empathy” toward me over his shoulder, it didn’t appear that his emotional state had changed much.

I felt sad.  My hope and belief is generally that such opportunities for expression help people to feel better.  But, I guess it may not be true in all cases. And, of course they are only one small piece of someone’s life and circumstances.

After he left, I sat quietly for a few moments, with my sign folded so as not to be visible to others.  I let the experience soak in.

And then, with about a half hour left in what I had intended to be a 90-minute stint, I allowed the thoughts and feelings to ebb away… and I put up the sign again, and sat with a genuine – if a little less bright than earlier – smile, hoping to offer empathy to others.

On Sunday morning, June 2nd, I headed into town on the train, intending to sit and listen in Boston Common.  I got off at the appropriate stop, but wasn’t sure quite how to get to the park.  I glanced at the map on my phone, and started walking.  I asked a few people, but they turned out to be tourists.  Finally I found a local couple, who said, “That’s just where we’re headed!  Follow us!”  They took me on a winding route, and sure enough, I got where I wanted to be.  As we parted, the woman said, “I don’t know if I would trust strangers to lead me around an unfamiliar city!”  I had to smile at the irony of her statement, and I said, “I’m actually here in town in order to listen to strangers.”  She said, “Oh… well then, you’re off to a good start!”

Indeed.

And, my first on-the-street empathy session of the tour went as well as I had hoped.  On this hot and humid day, I stationed myself prominently on a sidewalk in Boston Common, near the Massachusetts statehouse.  As people began to notice me with my sign, I got thumbs up, words of encouragement and appreciation, high fives, people taking photos, people stopping to talk… it was just as rewarding as in Portland.  As I already knew, the need for empathy is universal.

A man visiting from overseas was the first to stop and ask what it was all about; he left with a smile on his face.  An enthusiastic young woman stopped to muse about hope, and whether it’s possible for people to change their lives, permanently, for the better.  A man who works as an advocate for homeless people stopped to talk about the challenges homeless people face, and the ways that non-homeless people and politicians could help.  Another man, homeless himself, talked about losing his job, and also reminisced about his time in the military, when he was respected and given freedom and empowerment of various kinds.  (Inwardly, I wondered and hoped about other, less violent, possibilities for ways people could find empowerment, adventure, and financial stability in their lives, since these things were clearly meaningful to him, as they are to all of us.)  Several other people stopped and talked about other topics.  As usual, I found it fulfilling to listen to whatever was real for people, and to converse about some topics that are meaningful to me.

Afterward, I met with a friend for lunch, and we walked together to the Boston Marathon memorial site.  As it turns out, it is right across from the Boston Public Library.  Both were spots I had considered for sitting with my sign… so now I have an official plan to do so.  Either tomorrow or Tuesday… and on the other of those two days, I will head to Harvard Square.

This evening I met up with some friends I had known in Portland, who now live in Salem.  They are graciously hosting me in their beautiful home; tomorrow I will head back to Boston via the ferry.  What a wonderful adventure this trip is!

Well, I’ve arrived in Boston!

The heat greeted me as soon as I stepped off the plane, punctuating my arrival on this coast.  I had a lovely conversation with the woman next to me on the plane, a longtime Bostonian originally from Puerto Rico.  She shared some of her life story, and those of her three children – one of whom lives in the Portland area – all of whom have chosen different life paths.

And, I’ve had a wonderfully warm welcome here so far!  My hosts are gracious and fascinating people, with extensive bookshelves full of all kinds of interesting-looking books about topics ranging from animal activism to NVC to polyamory to psychology/personal development to anarchism and all kinds of conscious ways of living.  I doubt I’ll have time to read any of them while I’m here, but it inspires me to simply be surrounded by such books and to know they exist.

One of my hosts, Hillary, treated me to dinner in Cambridge last night (where my father attended MIT in the 1960s) at the Veggie Galaxy restaurant; I hope and plan to return to Cambridge later in the trip.  Perhaps offer some empathy in Harvard Square?

Today I’ll be meeting up with a new friend for lunch, and then staying with a former coworker and her husband in Salem tonight.  I’m looking forward to seeing them.

And – most relevant to this blog, of course – I will be doing my first empathy stint of the tour today!  I’m excited, and a little nervous.  I will be using the same cardboard sign I made, and used, in Portland; after much effort and gnashing of teeth about how I could create a durable, packable, and waterproof sign – using Tyvek, wooden dowels, and tent-seam sealer – I finally realized I could simply fold my existing sign.  Not waterproof… but otherwise packable and fully functional. Duh. 🙂

So… I’m curious to see where I will choose to offer empathy first. Perhaps Boston Common?  And, of course, I’m curious to see how it will be received, and what I will hear.  I imagine it will be similar to Portland: people will be curious, some will want to talk about what I’m doing, and some will want to talk about whatever is on their minds or weighing on their hearts at the moment.  I expect I will receive it all joyfully and curiously.

Let the adventure begin!