Ngarngii a tekinged el blechoel el krengsii:  “A chedil ke uoi chebuul.” Someone said that to me. I replied, “Ngdiak chebuul. Ak chebuul eak mla mad ra kall e cheloit ra chokeburs lomekyaes.” Ngdi kid el melebeakl er ki¹d ma rengelked.  And we’re so afraid to bless our children and friends. Why?  It’s deep in our bones or our DNA that if we tell our loved ones how great they are, ea re Bladk- a mel ngoititerir.  There’s too much superstition.. so much lies. Its been said for at least a thousad years from generation to generation we dont realize it. Our culture oppress us. It’s so unconscious we don’t even think about it. Our people are so inflicted with self-pity, so we cover it with being nice and kind to others. E mei mekerdi melaes e e mengeremrum e omrotch a bubuu e kau tulechoid eng kuk mad a tang mekede mo chemudl a udoud e remuul a chised and go again on a merry-go-round. Quite a drama of self-pity. I don’t particularly active in the siukang but I observe e mo chetelaol just watching.

There’s a difference between self-compassion and self-pity.

Self-pity plays a role of a victim (a ki kmal chebuul).  It tends to focus on a selfish narcissistic, self-idolized and arrogance making oneself a god to be worshipped. When they don’t worship or reciprocate you get mad and retaliate with hatred on self that produces more self-pity.  It’s an unending cycle of self-rejection and hate. No wonder people are such two-faced always living in fear.  When you live in fear you control.

Self-compassion, on the other hand, allows one to see the related experiences of self and others without feelings of isolation and disconnection. Compassion for me is to get out of my heart and move into your heart and suffer with you. I’ll help you because I care, not because it’s siukang or I need to be admired.

Brennan Manning tells of Nikos Kanzantzakis’ play titled “Letters to Greco”.  It’s a beautiful picture of the compassion of Christ:  “An old man lies dying. He is filled with grief, remorse, and shame. At length he dies and goes naked and trembling before the LORD for judgment. Jesus has a big bowl of aromatic oil at his fingertips.  He dips a sponge into the sweet smelling ointment and washes the man clean of his grime and shame. Then Jesus says, “Don’t  bother me with that stuff anymore.  Go over and play.”

God doesn’t ask “how could you let yourself be filthy like that?” Or why didn’t you give the money you don’t have to kemeldiil.  He says, “I understand.  I forgive you. Let me help you get unstuck.”  He already forgave you two thousand years ago. He’s waiting for you to see that and come home to him, to his love and compassion.  It’s a choice. It’s up to you. NOT siukang.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *