Goodbye to the Jungle

My printer was in the midst of a jungle. I had to rescue it. I was tired of living in my own place and not being able to use my own stuff. So one night (which would be morning to most people; I work graveyards) I went into the jungle and I rescued my printer so I could print out a story for critiquing. Mind you, the jungle created was not my own (unusual, but true); the jungle of boxes and bags was created by the woman who had taken residence in my living room. “Why would you allow someone to live in your living room?” you might ask. Because she hadn’t worked in over a month and didn’t have the money to pay the rent anywhere. So yes, I felt sorry for her. Yes, I didn’t want her out in the streets. There’s a word for that: empathy.

Empathy is an oft-used word that gets thrown around a lot. At my work it means, “Say the proper phrase so that the customer will be happy and therefore get off the phone faster.” It’s often used interchangeably with sympathy. Etymologically, they mean essentially the same thing but in modern English sympathy is more about what you say and empathy is more about what you feel. Empathy is about putting yourself in another’s shoes. So I asked myself, “Would I want to be strapped for cash and perhaps living homeless?” No. So I took her in.

Most people thought I was crazy; they wouldn’t even think of doing it. The woman and I were in no way romantically involved. In fact, we didn’t really get along that well. “So why the hell did you take her in, Sean?” Again, empathy. I'm not saying I'm perfect, that I'm always empathetic. I definitely did have my reservations. But I try. “I’d never do something like that!” they told me. And that is part of the problem.

We live in a very selfish society. Most of the time, we’re thinking, “What’s in it for me?” Maybe a few times of the year we’re not selfish, like around Christmas, like it’s some sort of seasonal fad. (What about the other eleven months of the year?!) I must admit that I am often like that. I'd thought several times during her stayover that maybe I was a pushover, the proto-typical example of “a nice guy finishing last.” I spun paranoia about her grifting money from me, or worse. And I personally think she wasn’t as honest as she should’ve been about her situation. Yet, the grifting fantasy (or anything else) did not come to pass. She and her jungle left with our very imperfect friendship dinged a little more. And, though I hardly “live” in it anymore, I now have my living room back. I am glad.

This whole experience was capped when I attended a Buddhist class Sunday afternoon. The class was, fittingly, about generosity. In Buddhist terms, the act of generosity helps the giver as well as the receiver. (Actually, if you want to go deeper, “giver” and “receiver” are merely conventional labels for impermanent entities; what’s really going on is a shift toward a more compassionate society.) I like this. I’m helping out myself. My mom--one of the most selfless, compassionate people I know--asked me, “Did you learn your lesson?” Yes, Mom, I did, though not in the why you might think. Would I do it again? Absolutely, even though the experience caused headaches. However, I’ve laid down some personal ground rules to protect my interests and my sanity.

I will leave with this parting thought: the jungle. Author Upton Sinclair used it as a metaphor for the horrors of the meatpacking industry. The rock band Guns N’ Roses used it to refer to Los Angeles. I use it here to indicate the clutter one creates from her possessions. But to the millions of plants and animals who live there, the jungle is home, their abode, and for many, they couldn’t live in any other place. We don’t like the jungle because we’re big, clumsy apes who evolved in the African savanna. There is a Buddhist saying that goes: “There is no difference between non-enlightenment and enlightenment.” It means that enlightenment is always within reach; that even the most horrible, unenlightening situation can be truly, literally, enlightening. Her stay with me was not horrible, but neither was it a picnic. In her jungle I became just a little bit more empathetic. There is no difference between no-jungle and jungle.