Having the experience of witnessing someone in the process of dying is an awe-inspiring, grace-filled experience, as well as gritty and painful to watch. It is difficult to stay with it and takes a level of non-attachment as well as deep caring. It’s been my privilege to bear witness to the death of both my parents as well as a few close friends, and recently my brother-in-law.

When my brother-in-law went to the emergency room and then was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and end-stage cancer, I found myself feeling so much of my sister’s pain and my own fear for her future. It became so painful that I knew if I continued going down that path I would not be able to be there for her. Instead, I made a conscious decision to center and ground myself, focusing on being a stable presence for her, and offering myself in whatever way was needed.

Not only did I feel more calm, I was able to be present and in tune to what was happening and needed in the moment.

In the days after his passing, I thought about the shift I made – how much better I felt, and more able to be of service. Putting yourself in someone else’s shoes is the common definition of empathy. It got me thinking: is there such a thing as too much empathy? Or the wrong kind of empathy? When I shared these questions with friends, they thought: yes, it can be overdone and then it becomes about you instead of the other person.

The latest book by Brene Brown, Atlas of the Heart, has been sitting on an end table for awhile. Perusing through it, I landed on the answer I was looking for. She says:

…we need to dispel the thought that empathy is “walking in someone else’s shoes”. Rather than walking in your shoes, I need to learn how to listen to the story you tell about what it’s like in your shoes and believe you even when it doesn’t match my experiences.

What strikes me about this statement is that listening is so important. I tend to think I need to do something or fix something, when most of the time people just want and need to be heard. It’s not about trying to feel what others feel, but rather to understand where they are at without judging it through my own lens of experience and having compassion.

When you share having gone through something similar, you are identifying with what they may be feeling, but it often veers into being all about you, instead of helping them by sharing experience, strength and hope.

This excerpt of Being There, a poem from my book, Emergence a Path to Presence, expresses my feelings of helplessness and regret after my father’s passing:

Even when my eyes are closed, I know you are in the room.

These words from my father on his deathbed are etched in my memory.

They haunted me for years afterward. I wished I could have just sat there with him. Words were not needed at that point. Everything had already been said. He just needed the comfort of my presence. Now I know, even when I was not able to sit with him long, he knew I was there with them taking care of things and welcoming guests to say their goodbyes.

There are many ways to convey love that are more meaningful than words.

There’s a way to listen even when someone isn’t speaking. Being present and holding a loving space for whatever is happening, whether it be heartbreak, illness, or death, is the most empathetic thing you can do for someone.