Halloween night. Her face and hands are grayed with make-up and we’ve been talking much of the evening. I tell her I like her necklace, and she takes it off, puts it around my neck, a gift. And then, hours later, I’m curled up in a chair, trying to stay awake, half-listening to the conversation in the room, and I am surprised to hear her say, “Some people are just fucking vampires. I let my friends know that, you know, when I’m with them, I’m with them, but if I’m not there, not to count on anything. But people just want things from you like vampires.”
In my mind, the rememberance of it is closely followed by the rebuttal of the Sufi saying: “Do not become bitter because you are not equal to the magnitude of suffering with which you have been entrusted…” I find my mind throwing this saying at me again and again when my own stinginess and irritation arise; a call to remember that the source of tension is not so much in the person asking for something, but my lack of inclination or capacity to give.
When someone asks us for something or reveals a wound, they are offering us their vulnerability, giving us a gift of trust and giving us a chance to be worthy of it. The other’s implied belief in our goodness gives us more confidence in our goodness, or opens up for us the possibility of our goodness, and those things can bridge the gap between where we are and where we want to be. Sharon Salzberg writes about “reteaching a thing its loveliness”. When people come to us with their wounds or a request for compassion, the interaction can serve as mirror where we can see our stinginess or aversion, or where we can act with generosity and see our own loveliness.
In “The Power and Meaning of Love,” Thomas Merton touches on the power of love to transform the one giving it (who perhaps learns that he is, indeed, capable of kindness ) as well as the one receiving it (who perhaps learns that he is not undeserving of love or unlovable):
“One of the themes that has constantly recurred throughout this article
is that corrupt forms of love wait for the neighbor to ‘become a worthy object of love’ before actually loving him… Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love; and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbor worthy if anything can.”
Jean Vanier, too, touches on the idea that when we give someone an opportunity to act with greater love, or at least less harm, instead of assuming the worst, there is the potential for transformation:
“I have, on the other hand, some experience of nonviolence as a means of easing violence in people… If attention is paid in a positive way and welcoming way, responding to violence not with violence but with gentleness and understanding, then violence very often disappears… I am not saying that a man intent on killing will always cave in before nonviolence. There are so many different kinds of people with different forms of violence in them. All I know is that if a violent person is treated like a human being rather than a wild animal, there is a chance he will respond like a human being.”
As Bonhoeffer says:
“There is no way to peace along the way to safety. Peace is the great adventure.”