Thank you, Carol for the amazing post. It took me a few days to digest, and sit on my answer. Brené Brown talks about this - feeling with someone- is one level of empathy. Communicate it is another.
Practicing MI helped me understand that we first going to feel that feeling (if we listen) then we have our options: try to fix this person's problem, or find the feeling what resonates, and have the connection with them.
Some days ago Sky had another post, how helping and fixing comes with a good intention, but actually could trigger the opposite outcome.
Both post helped me to see better why I had a lot of "I can fix that!" conversations in the past, and how MI is shiting this mindset towards the more emphatic direction.
Thank you, Carol, for this amazing prompt. "The kind that matters most isn’t about shared experience. It’s about shared humanity." this resonated with me a lot, and you put it in a really beautiful way. We humans are quite complex yet very simple creatures where we want the same things, security, safeness, support, belonging.... etc.
Turning this empathy piece into our own self-reflection with the questions you provided for us is a very helpful way to understand ourselves, not to share common experiences with our clients but to be human, and being an imperfect human is sometimes all what we need to live, grow and create safeness for others.
“Empathy doesn’t always come from sameness. It’s about shared humanity.”
That line takes me back to when I began writing to people on death row years ago. We live in completely different worlds. And while I chose to offer empathy and support, I’ll admit—knowing the crimes that led to their sentences was hard to sit with.
Looking back, I was naive. I made the decision to write without fully considering how I’d cope with the weight of those crimes—some of which I still can’t come to terms with. I wrestled with that for a while. In the end, I decided the one thing I could do was to offer a small act of humanity. I’m grateful I kept that promise and got to hear stories I otherwise never would have known.
What I’ve learned is this: most of my penpals come from deeply unhealthy homes. Many were verbally, physically, or sexually abused—often all three—from a very young age. A lot of them ran away just to escape, and that’s when things began to spiral.
Nine out of ten of my penpals score a 10 on the Adverse Childhood Experience (ACE) test. That’s the highest possible score for childhood trauma.
With a history like that, empathy doesn’t feel difficult—even though we have almost nothing in common on the surface. Because beneath all of it, I believe we’re still human. We make mistakes. We fail. And sometimes, we try again—through connection, even from a distance.
Pei Fen, I remain in awe of your commitment to men who bear the scars of others’ sins. Thich Nhat Hanh reminded us that when we take the time to learn someone’s story and understand their suffering, we stop asking how they could commit such crimes and instead ask, “Given all they have endured, why wouldn’t they?” Your commintment to your penpals is a precious gift.
For me, empathy is stepping out of my own head and into someone else’s experience without trying to fix them. Whether it’s a client, a friend, or family, it’s about standing beside them in whatever they’re feeling. It starts with giving ourselves that same grace: trusting we have what it takes to move through whatever unfolds. It’s humbling, it deepens life, and it turns empathy into a quiet practice of gratitude.
Thank you, Carol for the amazing post. It took me a few days to digest, and sit on my answer. Brené Brown talks about this - feeling with someone- is one level of empathy. Communicate it is another.
Practicing MI helped me understand that we first going to feel that feeling (if we listen) then we have our options: try to fix this person's problem, or find the feeling what resonates, and have the connection with them.
Some days ago Sky had another post, how helping and fixing comes with a good intention, but actually could trigger the opposite outcome.
Both post helped me to see better why I had a lot of "I can fix that!" conversations in the past, and how MI is shiting this mindset towards the more emphatic direction.
Thank you both!
Thank you, Carol, for this amazing prompt. "The kind that matters most isn’t about shared experience. It’s about shared humanity." this resonated with me a lot, and you put it in a really beautiful way. We humans are quite complex yet very simple creatures where we want the same things, security, safeness, support, belonging.... etc.
Turning this empathy piece into our own self-reflection with the questions you provided for us is a very helpful way to understand ourselves, not to share common experiences with our clients but to be human, and being an imperfect human is sometimes all what we need to live, grow and create safeness for others.
A stunningly beautiful post, Carol! Thank you!
Thank you for your kind words, Lisa!
Thank you, Carol, for today’s prompt.
“Empathy doesn’t always come from sameness. It’s about shared humanity.”
That line takes me back to when I began writing to people on death row years ago. We live in completely different worlds. And while I chose to offer empathy and support, I’ll admit—knowing the crimes that led to their sentences was hard to sit with.
Looking back, I was naive. I made the decision to write without fully considering how I’d cope with the weight of those crimes—some of which I still can’t come to terms with. I wrestled with that for a while. In the end, I decided the one thing I could do was to offer a small act of humanity. I’m grateful I kept that promise and got to hear stories I otherwise never would have known.
What I’ve learned is this: most of my penpals come from deeply unhealthy homes. Many were verbally, physically, or sexually abused—often all three—from a very young age. A lot of them ran away just to escape, and that’s when things began to spiral.
Nine out of ten of my penpals score a 10 on the Adverse Childhood Experience (ACE) test. That’s the highest possible score for childhood trauma.
With a history like that, empathy doesn’t feel difficult—even though we have almost nothing in common on the surface. Because beneath all of it, I believe we’re still human. We make mistakes. We fail. And sometimes, we try again—through connection, even from a distance.
Pei Fen, I remain in awe of your commitment to men who bear the scars of others’ sins. Thich Nhat Hanh reminded us that when we take the time to learn someone’s story and understand their suffering, we stop asking how they could commit such crimes and instead ask, “Given all they have endured, why wouldn’t they?” Your commintment to your penpals is a precious gift.
For me, empathy is stepping out of my own head and into someone else’s experience without trying to fix them. Whether it’s a client, a friend, or family, it’s about standing beside them in whatever they’re feeling. It starts with giving ourselves that same grace: trusting we have what it takes to move through whatever unfolds. It’s humbling, it deepens life, and it turns empathy into a quiet practice of gratitude.
This is beautiful Melani, sounds like you are not doing, but living MI.
Thank you Janos, at the end of the day, it all comes down to gratitude 🙏