This is truly sad and it's getting worse. And that's why you're here. That's why I'm here. That's the purpose of some writers here- to try to make the voice louder even though we can't change the world, we can save some 🙏🏽❤️
I feel the weight in your words, and you're right, it is heartbreaking. And it keeps pressing in. But what you said, that’s the thread of hope I hold onto too. That even if we can’t stop all of it, we can witness, we can speak, and sometimes, we reach someone who needed exactly that. You being here matters. I’m glad you’re using your voice. Some things may not be fixable, but they’re still worth facing, especially together 🙏🏽❤️
This broke my heart. Autumn was only ten, and she was doing something a lot of adults still struggle to do: showing up for others with quiet, steady kindness. And that made her a target. Not because she did anything wrong, but because this world so often punishes softness. When she told her mom, “You’re just going to make it worse,”, she already understood the quiet cost of caring too much in a system that sees empathy as a threat.
What’s hard is how familiar this feels. So many people have been worn down by a world that treats care like a risk. The internet makes everything faster, more reactive. And instead of pausing to understand each other, we start scanning for what’s “off,” for what could be twisted or torn apart. So people stop sharing because it feels like no one will hold it gently if they do.
There's a reminder that healing doesn’t come in big sweeping gestures, it’s in the small, human moments. When someone stays with you through the hard parts. When someone doesn’t look away. That kind of presence doesn’t get headlines, but it’s everything. That’s how empathy survives: through people choosing to show up, quietly and without needing to be seen for it. And honestly, that gives me hope.
We’ve built systems, online and off, that reward speed, outrage, and spectacle, but not gentleness. And so many beautiful, sensitive voices go silent because it feels safer.
But like you said, healing lives in the small, consistent acts. The friend who listens without trying to fix you. The stranger who sees you and doesn’t flinch. Those moments won’t change the whole system, but they do change something. They remind us that empathy is still alive, still possible, still quietly powerful. Thank you for saying this. It matters 🙏🏽❤️
It may not be only technological but it almost feels like there is some sort of brain virus, like pathological particles causing a mutual transformation between technological interaction and social interaction, spiraling in a positive feedback loop, but occurring at a level people don’t seem to have access to.
Our society has lost pieces of the puzzle. Religion, churches -- I know the good and bad side, but that is a piece. Manners. Kindness is built into certain formalities, along with respect. It's a radical idea, but I think the deterioration of these two structures leaves people ungrounded and unsafe to empathize. The how digital thing -- kids are looking at faces on screens, not faces - we learn empathy from faces. Okay - that's my 2 bits. Thanks for making me think.
I share your concern. Where does this lack of empathy come from? I believe that we as individuals follow our leaders, perhaps in a subliminal way. One of the reasons democracy used to work was our willingness to compromise, that is to see the value in another’s strongly held opinion, even if we don’t agree. Now compromise has become a dirty word and the compromiser is a traitor rather than a diplomat. In our personal and institutional lives we now refuse to compromise, we decry empathy as betrayal. We have fallen into the trap of being followers and not leaders.
Hey! I saw your post pop up on my homepage and wanted to show some support. If you get a chance, I’d really appreciate a little love on my latest newsletter too always happy to boost each other!
YES— every moment of this resonated with me, I think we have all (if we’ve been paying attention) seen the cascade of everything that you’ve described, grow more and more severe. To me there are moments when it feels overwhelming. What’s always so heartbreaking is, in every moment of bellowed outrage, every embrace of cruelty as “strength” or masculinity, every attempt to further marginalize someone already marginalized for purportedly being unfairly “given” things they “haven’t earned,” and every false promise that professional success, health, or wealth is an indicator of human value, you can see the echoes of someone so desperate for the empathy that they’re condemning in others.
Obviously, this isn’t anything new—people in pain have tried to relieve themselves of it by harming others forever—but it seems so incomprehensibly stark now, maybe just because, exactly as you describe, the systems we’d built around it have broken down further than we’ve experienced before, and it’s so ubiquitous, and strong, and there’s just so much of it now. And it doesn’t make it any easier to see someone crying out for empathy, or recognition, to be met with walls of defensiveness from people who seem to believe compassion is a zero sum game, and that someone’s attempt to their voice heard will rob them of the empathy they’ve secretly (and desperately) been seeking, and so their gut tells them to attack, instead of recognizing that empathy grows out of itself…
It’s just so devastating that Autumn went through what she went through, and that she didn’t get to see the powerful impact the way she lived her life could have on people whom she never even met. but this is all an incredible reminder of what we as individuals can deal with just listening and accepting, even when it’s difficult for us, and the difference that can make.
The world is becoming a cold, hard and unforgiving place. It is heartbreaking to witness. By our words and acts of kindness, love can be sent out into the world. Our collective voice has power! Heartfelt message, Christine.
Yes! They trapped kindness inside the fragile bodies around a world that is learning to look over those like Autumn. Like trying to squeeze out our compassion for humankind.
This is truly sad and it's getting worse. And that's why you're here. That's why I'm here. That's the purpose of some writers here- to try to make the voice louder even though we can't change the world, we can save some 🙏🏽❤️
I feel the weight in your words, and you're right, it is heartbreaking. And it keeps pressing in. But what you said, that’s the thread of hope I hold onto too. That even if we can’t stop all of it, we can witness, we can speak, and sometimes, we reach someone who needed exactly that. You being here matters. I’m glad you’re using your voice. Some things may not be fixable, but they’re still worth facing, especially together 🙏🏽❤️
This broke my heart. Autumn was only ten, and she was doing something a lot of adults still struggle to do: showing up for others with quiet, steady kindness. And that made her a target. Not because she did anything wrong, but because this world so often punishes softness. When she told her mom, “You’re just going to make it worse,”, she already understood the quiet cost of caring too much in a system that sees empathy as a threat.
What’s hard is how familiar this feels. So many people have been worn down by a world that treats care like a risk. The internet makes everything faster, more reactive. And instead of pausing to understand each other, we start scanning for what’s “off,” for what could be twisted or torn apart. So people stop sharing because it feels like no one will hold it gently if they do.
There's a reminder that healing doesn’t come in big sweeping gestures, it’s in the small, human moments. When someone stays with you through the hard parts. When someone doesn’t look away. That kind of presence doesn’t get headlines, but it’s everything. That’s how empathy survives: through people choosing to show up, quietly and without needing to be seen for it. And honestly, that gives me hope.
We’ve built systems, online and off, that reward speed, outrage, and spectacle, but not gentleness. And so many beautiful, sensitive voices go silent because it feels safer.
But like you said, healing lives in the small, consistent acts. The friend who listens without trying to fix you. The stranger who sees you and doesn’t flinch. Those moments won’t change the whole system, but they do change something. They remind us that empathy is still alive, still possible, still quietly powerful. Thank you for saying this. It matters 🙏🏽❤️
It may not be only technological but it almost feels like there is some sort of brain virus, like pathological particles causing a mutual transformation between technological interaction and social interaction, spiraling in a positive feedback loop, but occurring at a level people don’t seem to have access to.
Our society has lost pieces of the puzzle. Religion, churches -- I know the good and bad side, but that is a piece. Manners. Kindness is built into certain formalities, along with respect. It's a radical idea, but I think the deterioration of these two structures leaves people ungrounded and unsafe to empathize. The how digital thing -- kids are looking at faces on screens, not faces - we learn empathy from faces. Okay - that's my 2 bits. Thanks for making me think.
I share your concern. Where does this lack of empathy come from? I believe that we as individuals follow our leaders, perhaps in a subliminal way. One of the reasons democracy used to work was our willingness to compromise, that is to see the value in another’s strongly held opinion, even if we don’t agree. Now compromise has become a dirty word and the compromiser is a traitor rather than a diplomat. In our personal and institutional lives we now refuse to compromise, we decry empathy as betrayal. We have fallen into the trap of being followers and not leaders.
Hey! I saw your post pop up on my homepage and wanted to show some support. If you get a chance, I’d really appreciate a little love on my latest newsletter too always happy to boost each other!
YES— every moment of this resonated with me, I think we have all (if we’ve been paying attention) seen the cascade of everything that you’ve described, grow more and more severe. To me there are moments when it feels overwhelming. What’s always so heartbreaking is, in every moment of bellowed outrage, every embrace of cruelty as “strength” or masculinity, every attempt to further marginalize someone already marginalized for purportedly being unfairly “given” things they “haven’t earned,” and every false promise that professional success, health, or wealth is an indicator of human value, you can see the echoes of someone so desperate for the empathy that they’re condemning in others.
Obviously, this isn’t anything new—people in pain have tried to relieve themselves of it by harming others forever—but it seems so incomprehensibly stark now, maybe just because, exactly as you describe, the systems we’d built around it have broken down further than we’ve experienced before, and it’s so ubiquitous, and strong, and there’s just so much of it now. And it doesn’t make it any easier to see someone crying out for empathy, or recognition, to be met with walls of defensiveness from people who seem to believe compassion is a zero sum game, and that someone’s attempt to their voice heard will rob them of the empathy they’ve secretly (and desperately) been seeking, and so their gut tells them to attack, instead of recognizing that empathy grows out of itself…
It’s just so devastating that Autumn went through what she went through, and that she didn’t get to see the powerful impact the way she lived her life could have on people whom she never even met. but this is all an incredible reminder of what we as individuals can deal with just listening and accepting, even when it’s difficult for us, and the difference that can make.
The world is becoming a cold, hard and unforgiving place. It is heartbreaking to witness. By our words and acts of kindness, love can be sent out into the world. Our collective voice has power! Heartfelt message, Christine.
Yes! They trapped kindness inside the fragile bodies around a world that is learning to look over those like Autumn. Like trying to squeeze out our compassion for humankind.