F.E.C.'s

I know what I have given you. I do not know what you have received. - Antonio Porchia in the Zen Calendar (November 10, 2006).

Day 127. Sometimes I wonder what precipitated the psychotic break from which I formulated the absurd idea of blogging and meditating every single day for a whole friggin' year. Oh, well. Too late now.

I seem to be carving out a new relationship with the Monkeys. I sit; they chatter. I am aloof, slightly amused, and non-attached. They escalate, becoming belligerent at my indifference. I remain impassive. They engage in a few half-hearted provocations and then quiet down. I continue to sit. They retreat to sulk. The new terms are working for me.

In the midst of a heavily flowing therapeutic stream, I had the opportunity to revisit a favorite phrase with a client today. She was describing a visit to her parents' home for her mother's eighty-plus birthday. My client, a delightful woman of 57, had expressed dismay when her mother, expressing "concern for your health," had handed her an advertisement for a weight loss program. My client (who, incidentally, has already lost 45 pounds without her mother's "support") had not solicited advice or "encouragement" on this particular topic from her mother.

This was a perfect segue into educating my client about a characteristic often found in mothers of clients with disordered eating. I informed her that she had been on the receiving end of a Failed Empathic Connection (FEC for short). FEC's occur when a person misses an opportunity to genuinely connect with another. They can be intentional or unintentional; they are acts of both commission and omission. An FEC can be as blatant as handing your daughter a weight-loss ad exactly when she is feeling proud of recently loosing weight. They can also be subtle disconnects like ignoring a friend who tears up in a conversation or refraining from placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of a loved one who is in pain. Often, FEC's emanate from narcissism: a person is so self-centered that they can only offer what they would like to receive, rather than what would be most meaningful for the other. When I am speaking about FEC's at eating disorders conferences, I give an example of the mother who ordered a glass of wine for her daughter while at dinner celebrating the daughter receiving her one-year sobriety chip. That is, amazingly, a true story.

Mothers, of all people, should have the ability to communicate "accurate empathy" to their children. After all, these beings were once housed in her body. Good parents, like good friends, mates and lovers, have the capacity and desire to transcend their own perspective and needs in the service of delivering a response that is individually tailored to the recipient. Accurate empathy is compassion that hits the bull's eye; it is well delivered loving kindness. When receiving the gift of accurate empathy we say, "She gets me." It feels really good.

I thought all evening about FEC's and Buddhism, concluding that a good practice greatly reduces Failed Empathic Connections. When we are grounded in Reality, unobstructed by our own projections and distortions, we are much more likely to both recognize occasions for - and kindly deliver - accurate empathy. Compassionate acts that hit their mark are good for us all.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc