Some scholars of Buddhist teachings in the Pali language report that compassion was not something the Buddha taught.  Rather, it was generally assumed then that everyone had compassion, or at least knew what it was.  This is not universally true in our era.  Understanding the nature of compassion does help people cultivate it.

All the Divine Abodes – lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity – have enemies.  They each have a near enemy and a far enemy.  The far ones are sentiments that are the total opposites.  The far enemy of compassion is cruelty.  The near enemy is more thought-provoking; it’s close enough to the real thing that we can fall into it by mistake.   Compassion’s near enemy is pity.  Almost every time I lead a discussion about this, we get bogged down in semantics.  “Pity” is a category that includes many similar feelings that aren’t compassion. 

Whatever you call it, there’s a tendency to recognize that someone’s situation could lead to distress, without really caring – except to say something “nice” if we encounter them.  There are other aspects to this near enemy, too.  We can consider the kind of distress, or dukkha, they’re probably feeling, but at an emotional distance, one that leaves room to be glad this situation hasn’t happened to us. 

As we get closer to the real thing, there’s still another impostor: imagining that we’re actually feeling what they feel.  This can be troublesome.  We may feel think well of ourselves for “sharing” the suffering of others, that we’re “taking on” their dukkha.  But this exercise just distresses us without really helping the other person.  And it doesn’t leave room in our hearts to be fully present with them in their unhappiness, which is often the best comfort anyone could provide.

Compassion is about having a very open heart, one that recognizes that all things are impermanent, including suffering.  While the loss of a loved one lasts the rest of the survivor’s life, the form of grief changes over time.  Compassion arises when we contemplate someone’s unhappiness.  The open heart lets it in, and out.  In my experience, compassion for the suffering of others often soothes my own grief.   Because compassion opens the heart so much, it makes it able to hold all that is true in that moment.  While pity often makes us feel worse, compassion doesn’t.

Opening the heart so wide is essential for Buddhist practice.  It helps us really understand that dukkha is caused by clinging, not by circumstances. So compassion encompasses an aspect of forgiveness.  Rather than blaming ourselves or others for clinging to things, compassion accepts that all people cling to something, to some extent.  Without this acceptance, we can’t see clearly how we cause our own dukkha.  The mind tends to avoid looking directly at the way we cling, or denies that we’re even doing it.  With compassion, we can see all suffering for what it is.  We can begin to untie the mental knots that keep us clinging, and tenderly offer and take comfort.