I’m interrupting my intended series on individuality with a short note on empathy.

Today, at 12.51pm, we will stop what we are doing and spend 2 minutes silently reflecting on the people of Christchurch who have been affected by the massive earthquake that shook the city exactly one week earlier.

We are a nation of go-getters.  Pioneers by nature and heritage (most of us anyway) who cast aside trouble and hardship and press on with the task at hand.  She’ll be right, mate.

As such, when faced with a tragedy of the proportions we have just witnessed in Christchurch, we like to offer solutions, a forward-looking perspective, something to move people on from the place of grief or sadness they find themselves in.  It makes us feel better to offer something and we think it will make them feel better too.

I’m not talking about doing stuff.  Obviously our kiwi spirit has come into its own in that regard and we are all rallying around those in need and working like trojans (those in the region) and giving money selflessly (those elsewhere).  For those who are practically minded, there’ll always be things you can do to help.  But I’m talking about those conversations you have with people in pain.  The listening and the “just being” with people which is as important as the practical stuff and yet, so much harder to do well.

Lizzy and Kent Manning (and Dad Jonathon) hear the news of their Mum Donna's death in the CTV building.

Often, in times of great sorrow and trauma, sufferers need us to join them in that place of sadness – to share it with them for a moment.

Sometimes it’ll be just about hearing what is being said behind what is actually being said.  For example:

“I’m so lucky it’s just my house that is destroyed and not my family… but it’s going to be hard.” [I’m really struggling with this but trying desperately to look at the good]

We’re often tempted to give this sort of response:  “Hey, at least it’s not the whole house – look, you’ve still got use of the back wing!!” Or … “Don’t cry my love… it’ll be alright…” Or … “It’s going to be fine – look, why don’t you see it as an adventure…”

A better response is:  “I’m so sorry you’re going through this… I can’t imagine what it must be like… I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Or even … “I just don’t know what to say, this is so hard…”

And in doing so, we sit with them in that place where there IS no solution just now, just loss. It can be counter-intuitive for us to not offer advice, a solution or even a different perspective.  It may even make us feel awkward.  But that’s what sharing grief is all about.  It has to be endured.

In due course advice and action will be warranted.  But there is an appropriate time and we MUST listen to the people as to when that is.

Let’s all join in with the grief of Christchurch today at 12.51pm.  It’s not about solution; it’s about honouring the place of pain so many of our fellow kiwis find themselves in right now.  In doing so, we empower them to keep going.