Compassion is not a social facade. Compassion is not a sham designed to mask our essential self–centeredness. Compassion is the emotion that links us to those outside ourselves. It is the capacity for outreach. It enables us, it drives us, to go beyond ourselves to the beating pulse of the rest of the world. Compassion, then, is a dimension of what it means to be fully human.
Henry dropped to his knees, his bare toes finding the damp soil underneath the pine needles and leaves. He remained in that position for a quarter hour, unmoving, breathing slowly and deeply, watching the sky. Listening. The silent edge of dusk spread across the hillside. A luminous dark blue and purple void appeared to welcome the first star. And Henry, with loving respect for things he did not know, for what Cicero had called the unseen force that guides the body and guides the world, yielded to that unknown and unknowable force. He would rest in this pool of unknowing for as long a time as he was granted.