trying to catch a tidal wave in a tea cup
/rōot/ awakenings post # 12 - on empathy, connection, and staying connected to our humanity
This week, as the relentless flood of devastating news, the cruelty of dehumanizing policies, and the profound impact of the regime’s actions continued to spread far and wide, I noticed a helplessness beginning to creep in — a little voice reminding me that while so many suffer, I sit safely in my home, scrolling through their pain on a screen.
So, I did the only thing I could think to do — reached out to friends and loved ones to ask a deceptively simple question: “How are you?”
It’s a question that, in this moment, feels woefully inadequate and almost absurd—like trying to catch a tidal wave in a teacup when people all around me are drowning in pain. And yet, I’ve come to realize that it’s more important than ever that we keep asking, as an act of care and as an act of resistance. A reminder that we’re still here, still breathing, still connected to one another.
Over the years I’ve learned that empathy doesn’t require grand gestures or profound insights. It simply asks us to show up and be present—fully and without agenda—even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about holding space for another’s grief, rage, frustration, or any other painful emotion without rushing to fix the situation, minimize it, or cover it up with platitudes and toxic positivity. Empathy means meeting people where they are, not where we think they should be. And like so many other things, it’s a practice—one that isn’t always easy, especially when we’re confronted with the rawness of other people’s suffering.
I felt that tension deeply a couple of days this past week when I was really low—overwhelmed by grief, anger, and despondency. One day, I called a friend, hoping to have someone acknowledge what I was feeling. But instead of holding space, they veered into spiritual bypassing—talking about how everything happens for a reason— when what I really needed was just to sit with my feelings. I know they meant well, but sometimes the urge to ease discomfort—our own or someone else’s—can get in the way of creating a meaningful connection.
But the next day, I had a very different experience when in a conversation with another friend she asked, “What do you need right now? What would be most helpful?” This act of empathy didn’t try to fix anything—it just was. It gave me the space to express what I was feeling—not to fuel my rage or dismiss my grief, but to just be seen in it. And in that space, I felt lighter. Not because the pain had disappeared, but because I didn’t have to carry it alone.
That moment reminded me how powerful it is to feel seen — and how much we need that right now.
In this moment of history, self-care is vital for survival—but community care is what sustains hope over the long term. Checking in on each other, even with something as simple as “How are you?” can be an act of resistance against the isolation and despair that so often accompany collective trauma. It’s a beautiful reminder that empathy isn’t about taking away someone’s pain—it’s about the willingness to bear witness to it. To say, “I see you. I’m here with you. You’re not alone.”
a compassionate reframe
Empathy isn’t about having the right words or the perfect response. It’s about showing up—imperfectly, tenderly, and with an open heart—even when it’s uncomfortable. In the face of collective grief, pain, and dehumanization, the simple act of being present for one another becomes an act of resistance. It reminds us that we are still connected, still human, and still capable of love and care in a world that increasingly feels devoid of both.
reflection prompts
As we navigate the collective heaviness of this moment—whether it’s tied to global events, personal grief, or a vague sense of overwhelm—I invite you to reflect on the following:
- When was the last time someone really saw you in a moment of pain? What did they do (or not do) that made you feel held?
- Think about a recent conversation with a friend or loved one. Did you find yourself trying to "fix" their feelings, or were you able to simply hold space? How did that feel?
- What’s one small act of community care can you incorporate into your routine this week?
one final thought
In times like these, empathy is one of the most radical acts of love we can offer to others, because asking someone the question that feels too simple, and sitting with them in their pain, is a way of honoring their humanity and reminding them they’re not alone. And that kind of presence—simple, human, and deeply tender—is what keeps us connected. It nourishes the roots beneath the surface that hold us up, even when everything around us is crumbling.
May this week bring you moments of connection, the courage to hold space, and the grace to be held in return.
In solidarity + gratitude,
in case you missed them . . .
Dimple Dhabalia
Dimple Dhabalia
