Why Empathy Fails Without Sequence

The deadline was looming. It was two days out, 48 hours technically to spare, but really only 20 minutes here and there between back-to-back meetings to address. I could feel the pressure in the air, even through the distance of our virtual meeting.

She cracked.

"It's all too much"

The tiles on our screen, frozen. Not because of a faulty connection, but because of the silence.

This leader was not someone you would think of as being unregulated. She had done a yoga retreat earlier in the year. She took time often in nature to be still. Self-care was a part of the routine. Yet, the crack still happened.

The other leader on the line broke the stillness. He redirected the call with a forced pivot, "let's take this offline."

It cooled the room, but did not address it. The moment was managed, but not met.

This was a moment I witnessed of a leader cracking under the pressures of corporate. Not because she had not done the inner work.

Rather, it's about when the inner work had nowhere to go in the 6 seconds that mattered.

Why this keeps happening to people who've "done the work"

Inner work is built for a different tempo.

Meditation, journaling, yoga: all are practices in stillness. They are done in your own time and pace.

When I wake in the morning and start with meditation, my workday is far off, and I have time not to be rushed.

Pressure doesn't wait for the peaceful moment to work itself out. The gap between the trigger you feel and your outward reaction can be seconds or even less. You do not have the luxury of always going back to your meditation moment to think through how to handle what you are facing.

The leader who got aggravated at the other one for the outward reaction most likely believed in staying grounded in the moment, regardless of the pressure. But belief and the reflex that can hit in seconds are not the same muscle.

The work was never missing to stay calm, even under pressure. The bridge between the inner work and the moment of pressure was.

Wholeness isn't the whole picture

Empathy. We think of it as something toward the room and those outside of us, but it is not just simply external.

Empathy, toward yourself and towards the room, collapses without sequence.

The whole picture is necessary. It is not sufficient to focus on one without the other.

There is a difference between "doing the work" and having your practice down to be able to maintain it even when the room is not still, and all you can hear is the sound of chirping birds as the sun rises.

How do you maintain your compassion for yourself and empathy for the room when the room is shaky, and the glass is beginning to spill over in your inner self?

The turn, the pause

Taking a pause can seem daunting, until you do it.

The pause does not need to be minutes of awkward silence. It can be a breath, where time stretches, but not much time passes for those observing. It can be a statement, asking for time to reflect or follow up.

The pause is simply the smallest possible time gap between the trigger felt and the response given.

Imagine what would have happened between the two leaders with the pause applied, on both of their parts.

The leader who panicked and could not take the pressure of it all being too much might have had a moment to rephrase to something like,

"There is a lot on the agenda right now."

"There is a long list of to-do items for the week."

A more neutral statement could have emerged, with a brief moment to recalibrate and think on the words to come out.

But say they weren't. Say the original words landed anyway.

The leader who met her with annoyance could have met her with empathy in the moment.

With a brief pause, a phrase grounded in needing to recalibrate or not pivot away from the emotion could have been discussed.

A compassionate, "I hear you. Can you and I regroup right after this call to chat about it?" could have been stated to keep the conversation moving, but it would have been better received.

Even with a moment of pause, the tone could have been adjusted, and the same words could have been used to bring the call back to center.

In just 6 seconds of pause for each, the nature of the tone, the words, and the call could have been adjusted completely.

The inner work, relocated

The pause in the moment of pressure is the inner work, relocated. It roots you in the present.

It's the same inner garden, showing up in real time, not in the stillness of morning, but in the six seconds that test you.

It's not a separate technique outside of what you are doing when you write early in the morning, meditate before bed, or mindfully pause to look up when you walk.

It is the same technique, relocated to a moment where the stakes are highest and the time is shortest.

The practice of this was never the gap. Where it was allowed to live is.