It was supposed to be a pleasant dinner with long-time friends, a shared meal, a few laughs, and a bottle of wine. Instead, it became a stark reminder of how political beliefs can fracture a friendship.

I couldn’t associate with her knowing she was a Trumper,” he said with contempt.

His words hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable, as he described avoiding his office coworker in the elevator, unable to even look at her. In that moment, I felt a profound sadness washing over me. This wasn’t just a disagreement; it was the complete dismissal of another human being.

I was stunned. This man, whom we’d always known to be kind and level-headed, was now expressing a level of hostility that seemed shockingly out of character.

As my husband gently steered the conversation to lighter topics, I wrestled with a deep sense of disappointment and anger. I enjoyed our friend’s company, but now, how could I feel the same towards him knowing he treated his coworker that way?

As the conversation moved on, I couldn’t shake off the unease. It was like I’d seen a side of our friend I couldn’t unsee – a willingness to write off another person completely over politics. This stirred up a mix of emotions that left me deeply troubled.

Lately, I’ve noticed a growing apathy around me. It seems as if people have become so entrenched in their political beliefs that they’ve justified a callousness towards others, casting a shadow over our society.

This apathy… it gets to me.

Today marks the fall equinox, when day and night are equal. This natural balance reminds me of our own inner struggle between empathy and apathy.

Just as the equinox brings equal parts light and darkness, we all have the capacity for both empathy and apathy within us.

Empathy is like that friend who always seems to know exactly how you’re feeling. It’s when we can put ourselves in someone else’s shoes and really *get* what they’re going through. This light lets us connect deeply with others.

Apathy is more like the darkness – the absence of that emotional connection. It’s when we just… don’t care. About anything or anyone outside our immediate concerns.

These opposing states of being aren’t so black and white. People are often empathetic in one context while displaying apathy in another. It’s complicated and is often rooted in our earliest experiences – particularly those marked by trauma.

Unresolved trauma can shape our actions and emotions. Thich Nhat Hanh, a renowned Buddhist monk and peace activist, wrote in his book, Anger: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames,

When you hold a hot coal with the intention of throwing it at someone else, you are the one who gets burned.”

When we’re hurt, especially as kids, we hold onto that pain like it’s a weapon we can use later. The burning coal of unresolved pain can cause us to become apathetic as a means of self-protection. It might cause us to overcompensate by becoming overly empathic to heal our own wounds.

As we move into this season of change, I’m challenging myself to put down some of these hot coals. To forgive and look at my own actions with compassion and understanding and extend that same grace to others.

Because I’m realizing that forgiveness isn’t just about the other person – it’s about freeing myself to feel empathy again.

It’s not easy. There are days when I want to hold onto my anger or hurt. But I’m finding that when I choose to let go, to forgive (both myself and others), life becomes a little easier.

A little lighter.

And in doing this, maybe we can all find a better balance between empathy and apathy, just as nature finds its balance today.