Entropy to Empathy

If we do one thing with this blog, it will be to learn something new. Class is in session.

en·tro·py:  noun. the degradation of the matter and energy in the universe to an ultimate state of inert uniformity; a process of degradation or running down or a trend to disorder; chaos, disorganization, randomness.

em·pa·thy: noun. the feeling that you understand and share another person’s experiences and emotions; the ability to share someone else’s feelings.

Picture with me an Alka Seltzer tablet the moment just before it is placed into a glass of water. It is uniform, firm and solid. Drop it into the water though and it degrades (actually it dissolves). Or, examine horses in a corral; if you leave the gate open, eventually they will find their way out and disperse.  These scenes are suggestive of entropy. It’s a visualization of disorder and chaos from what was once order and peace.

This blog, and the Caring Bridge journal before it, allows me to share with you many of the transformations that have taken place in my mind and heart during the course of caring for Jacob, and after his passing. I now readily admit that one of the transitions I have made is learning empathy toward others that have suffered similar loss. Until now, I have had an utter lack of empathy toward those who have lost a loved one. I wouldn’t describe my lack as a “cold heart”, but more of an inability to understand. I simply did not have that certain gift that allows one to say the right words at the right time, or to do the right thing at the right moment to ease the suffering. I was amazed at those who do have that gift and know how to use it. We would receive notes, cards and gifts out of the blue and at just the right time from people who obviously have the gift of empathy. These gestures eased the pain and grief, and I continue to think to myself “How did they know?”

My inability to act the same way reached a point that I would nearly dismiss someone in their suffering. Somehow, my tendency toward logic led me to believe that sorrow was fruitless and depression was a waste and both simply promoted a degradation of mind and body. Why would someone do that to themselves? How shameful of me to think this way.

My gift for logic had been a gift of order and calm. However, when confronted with events that spun out of my control, I was entirely ill-equipped. Order turned to disorder, and peace turned to chaos. Entropy. I was unknowingly learning a lesson here, and God was reseting me or reorganizing my ability to undertand what others have experienced. He was using this disorder to, in fact, re-order things in my life. To follow through with the horse analogy above, it was as if He didn’t like the way the horses were arranged in the corral. So He opened the gate, pulled them out, rearranged them and led them back in correct order.

As I walked into work the other day, the thought struck me full in the face. The morning followed a rough night of sleep. I have spent recent days pondering why I have been feeling uneasy despite the fact that more than two months have gone by since Jacob’s passing. Why is it more difficult now than in the days surrounding his funeral? Why do odd medical and theological questions persist which have no answer? WHY HAVE I BEEN SO COLD TO THOSE WHO HAVE DEALT WITH THIS ISSUE BEFORE ME?

And there it was. A reversal. A revealing. The solid became degradation became rebuilding. Order became chaos became re-order. Entropy moved toward Empathy. Perhaps this whole matter of Jacob is, once again, a learning lesson for me. Throughout this process of weakening and reorganization, God is shaping me and I must trust in that process. Saint Paul’s wonderful statement comes to mind: “But [the Lord] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” 2 Cor 12:9. Now, my real task is to put this lesson into action.