True connection requires us to first melt a little bit of ourselves into everything we encounter. This moment is both painful and open. In this process of reintegrating ourselves, we allow life outside the body to enter us and make us whole. Every time we experience suffering, we experience some rupture. Every time we fall in love and be loved, we melt away beautifully. To break is to be able to let the vitality bit by bit infiltration, melting is to let oneself into the larger world. This breaking and melting in order to gain connection is the biology of compassion. Just as when we work out, our muscles tear and then heal themselves, leaving us stronger than before, so our hearts love and suffer accordingly. Inevitably, the tears of heartbreak will moisten the dry heart, and we will grow with them. Sometimes our fear of cracking and melting makes us retreat from reaching out our hands to help the suffering people we encounter, telling ourselves it's none of my business. But no one has ever been able to get around the touch of life. Sooner or later, the fingers of the universe come along and touch us and play with us and rearrange us.

To run away from the cry of the world will make the future of the universe more cruel, and to bravely meet the world's grief, the touch of the universe will become our teacher. Listening to the world cry will moisten the soil under our feet. Perhaps the noblest of personal acts is the long-neglected effort to turn inward: to open our hearts when the doors are closing, to open our souls when they shrink in fear, to soften our minds when the storms of life have sharpened our minds. In the beginning, our allergy to grief can trap us in fear and worry, we complain, I have a right to be happy, can't I just pretend that nothing happened? Must I blame myself for suffering that I can do nothing about? The first enemy of kindness is guilt, because guilt doesn't allow us to turn our heads away. It also doesn't allow us to open our hearts. But if we do open ourselves up, our lives will be changed. No matter how much we try to resist it, life works out its plans, and when we least expect it, we are inevitably confronted with this beautiful, cruel dilemma. Beneath all the goals and plans, there is a hidden need to hold on to each other, so that we are not drowned by the waves of fate that mix joy and sorrow. The truth is: my suffering does not have to be out of your sight to disturb your happiness, and you do not have to hide your suffering to disturb my peace. By allowing each other's happiness and suffering to reach each other, the flowers of compassion will bloom deep within us and help us to perfect each other. When the god of suffering comes, we naturally know how to deal with it. We can share our bread and water, or our shelter when a storm comes. Realizing the true nature of suffering's ultimate effect on us, all we can do is compassion -- to live sincerely and tenderly with all those who are suffering.

There was a time when I felt so strongly that if we didn't respect each other's pain, civilization would end, and the fear was overwhelming. But despite my complaints and my resistance, I know in my bones that an open mind holds the key to unlocking all mysteries. By opening our hearts to the suffering of life, we can see the hearts we all share. Only when human civilization listens to the cry of the world with our shared heart can we human beings find the source of life. We must let go of our obsession with avoiding pain and begin to find the cry of life that enables us to follow each other. Beneath all the goals and plans, there is a hidden need to hold on to each other, so that we are not drowned by the waves of fate that mix joy and sor

row.

True connection requires us to first melt a little bit of ourselves into everything we encounter. This moment is both painful and open. In this process of reintegrating ourselves, we allow life outside the body to enter us and make us whole. Every time we experience suffering, we experience some rupture. Every time we fall in love and be loved, we melt away beautifully. To break is to be able to let the vitality bit by bit infiltration, melting is to let oneself into the larger world. This breaking and melting in order to gain connection is the biology of compassion. Just as when we work out, our muscles tear and then heal themselves, leaving us stronger than before, so our hearts love and suffer accordingly. Inevitably, the tears of heartbreak will moisten the dry heart, and we will grow with them. Sometimes our fear of cracking and melting makes us retreat from reaching out our hands to help the suffering people we encounter, telling ourselves it's none of my business. But no one has ever been able to get around the touch of life. Sooner or later, the fingers of the universe come along and touch us and play with us and rearrange us.

To run away from the cry of the world will make the future of the universe more cruel, and to bravely meet the world's grief, the touch of the universe will become our teacher. Listening to the world cry will moisten the soil under our feet. Perhaps the noblest of personal acts is the long-neglected effort to turn inward: to open our hearts when the doors are closing, to open our souls when they shrink in fear, to soften our minds when the storms of life have sharpened our minds. In the beginning, our allergy to grief can trap us in fear and worry, we complain, I have a right to be happy, can't I just pretend that nothing happened? Must I blame myself for suffering that I can do nothing about? The first enemy of kindness is guilt, because guilt doesn't allow us to turn our heads away. It also doesn't allow us to open our hearts. But if we do open ourselves up, our lives will be changed. No matter how much we try to resist it, life works out its plans, and when we least expect it, we are inevitably confronted with this beautiful, cruel dilemma. Beneath all the goals and plans, there is a hidden need to hold on to each other, so that we are not drowned by the waves of fate that mix joy and sorrow. The truth is: my suffering does not have to be out of your sight to disturb your happiness, and you do not have to hide your suffering to disturb my peace. By allowing each other's happiness and suffering to reach each other, the flowers of compassion will bloom deep within us and help us to perfect each other. When the god of suffering comes, we naturally know how to deal with it. We can share our bread and water, or our shelter when a storm comes. Realizing the true nature of suffering's ultimate effect on us, all we can do is compassion -- to live sincerely and tenderly with all those who are suffering.

There was a time when I felt so strongly that if we didn't respect each other's pain, civilization would end, and the fear was overwhelming. But despite my complaints and my resistance, I know in my bones that an open mind holds the key to unlocking all mysteries. By opening our hearts to the suffering of life, we can see the hearts we all share. Only when human civilization listens to the cry of the world with our shared heart can we human beings find the source of life. We must let go of our obsession with avoiding pain and begin to find the cry of life that enables us to follow each other. Beneath all the goals and plans, there is a hidden need to hold on to each other, so that we are not drowned by the waves of fate that mix joy and sor

row.