Reflections on Compassion, Discernment, and Protecting What’s Good
I love to experience new things. Whether it’s a new country, park, city, food, or experience, the novelty feeds me. I am an explorer at heart, and that exploration doesn’t stop at the physical world. I tend to explore my inner world too.
The brain is another muscle, and experiences are exercises that expand the big muscle between our ears. Understanding different cultures and viewpoints is just what I do. I could blame the behaviorist in me, but it started long before college.
My inward travels started before I ever stepped on a plane or crossed a border. They began with a child trying to make sense of the craziness around her.
The Stories That Raised Me
I had one such “inward travel” moment recently while watching one of my favorite Korean dramas on Netflix.
Why do I watch Korean productions? Firstly, I find listening to the shows in Korean and reading the subtitles oddly relaxing. It typically keeps me from thinking too much. They also remind me of the simplicity of North American television in the 1970s. No swearing, no sex scenes, and no gratuitous violence.
I said they typically keep me from thinking too much.
On this particular day, however, the show sent me into self-analysis mode.
In short, after one character spends decades trying to ruin another man’s life, the guilty party threatens to jump off a building after finally being caught. The victim rushes to his side and saves him from himself.
Kind and noble, right?
Not so fast.
I was irritated by the scene.
Why?
Because twenty years ago, that would have been me. I would have rushed to save that person too.
Today, it would take every ounce of my being not to push him off the ledge.
I hated that he was saved after being so cruel to so many people.
That reaction surprised me.
Had I changed that much?
Which made me wonder: was my original martyr-like behavior partly the result of all those feel-good stories I watched as a child and young adult? Did I model myself after the heroines in those shows?
I truly believed that if I was just unselfish enough, patient enough, and understanding enough, good would always prevail.
I grew up in a pretty dysfunctional home. Of course, like most children, I had no idea it was dysfunctional until I removed myself from it.
As a child, I struggled to reconcile what I believed the world should be with what I was experiencing at home.
One potential benefit of being raised in dysfunction is developing the survival skill of reading people. Predicting their next move. Understanding that behavior often comes from pain, fear, and trauma. Learning that breaking the cycle is necessary not only for your survival, but for your children’s as well.
Of course, I wasn’t just trying to survive.
I was trying to become what those stories depicted.
Good people win at life.
Then I got married.
For twenty years, I patiently waited for my husband to “get it.” To see the world and its possibilities the way I did. To see me and my dreams.
He never did.
When I finally decided to leave and pursue the life I wanted, he became cruel. Over time, I realized that no amount of sacrifice on my part was going to make him see the world the way I did.
That realization changed everything. I understood why he was the way he was. But eventually I learned something important:
You can understand why someone became who they are and still walk away.
Just because I understood it didn’t mean I deserved it.
And understanding alone wasn’t going to help me build the life I wanted.
Compassion Without Boundaries
It took me years to comprehend what had truly happened. I wasn’t lacking boundaries.
I could create distance.
I could leave.
I could say no.
What I lacked were boundaries of the heart. Compassion without boundaries becomes self-abandonment.
Women of my generation were often taught to be supporting characters in other people’s lives. But eventually many of us realize that we are the keepers of ourselves. We have to step into our own power and stop waiting for someone else to give us permission to live the life we want.
The best part of my divorce was that it taught me to create physical boundaries. To say no. To speak my mind, even when it was difficult.
When I saw that scene in the Korean drama, I realized something else.
I still struggled with boundaries of the heart.
I gave far too many people too many chances after they had repeatedly shown me who they were. If they asked for forgiveness, I would almost always give it.
Watching that scene made me realize how many times I had saved people from going over the edge after they had treated me without respect. After they had cut me deeply.
Have I Hardened?
Shortly before watching the show, I had been rocked by a story that hit far too close to home. It came on the heels of the renewed attention around the Epstein case and forced me to confront something I had spent much of my life resisting.
There truly is evil in this world.
Not everyone can be saved because we believe in them.
Not everyone wants to change.
And sometimes our kindness, our willingness to give the benefit of the doubt, makes it easier for certain people to continue harming others.
That realization sent me further inward.
Have I hardened?
Am I cynical now?
Have I lost faith in humanity?
Or have I finally learned discernment?
I still don’t know the answer. Some days I worry that I’ve become cynical. Other days I think I’ve simply stopped volunteering to be hurt. Perhaps wisdom and cynicism look surprisingly similar from a distance.
What I do know is this: Younger me believed good would always prevail. Wiser me believes good survives because people protect it.
Through courage.
Through discernment.
Through boundaries.
For years, I thought boundaries were about protecting my time and my space. Only recently have I realized they are also about protecting my heart.
Novelty still feeds me. I still love exploring new places, new ideas, and new perspectives.
It turns out the most interesting territory I’ve explored lately wasn’t a new country or a new city.
It was my own beliefs.
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