Empathy with a Kidney Bean

It  didn’t seem strange to have empathy with the kidney bean left in the can after the initial dumping. I had to rinse them before putting them in the chili, and all but one made their way into the sieve. I could have just rinsed it into the sink, you know, because I am a responsible recycler and rinse my cans. (I had to weigh the insufferability of that last phrase against my guilt for so many years of not rinsing, as if that helps the planet). I didn’t rinse it down the sink though, I rinsed it into the sieve, because I didn’t want it to feel unworthy. I literally had that thought. I was concerned about the kidney bean’s feelings. 

To clarify, I do not believe beans have feelings. I do not believe vegetables have feelings. And, I eat meat, so it is safe to say I am not concerned with bacon’s feelings. And yet, I wanted this kidney bean to feel wanted, appreciated, and trusted to perform that for which it was canned in the first place.

I can’t decide if this is a strength or a hindrance. 

I blame the golden rule for this confusion. It’s so simple: “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” But does that really extend to kidney beans? What exactly was I hoping for from this kidney bean, which I was about to cook, by the way? Or was I blending or confusing the golden rule and karma. If I value this kidney bean, I too will feel valued. And by valued, I don’t just mean valued, but valued in the way that I think I need. That’s a lot to put on a kidney bean.

Empathy is a tricky virtue, and virtue is a tricky trap. 

Often we wield empathy as a tool. We’re not always conscious of it, but sometimes we are. It is the trident of martyrs. I empathize, therefore I sacrifice, therefore I am worthy, therefore I should be considered worthier, therefore attention must be paid. I, 100%, have been guilty of that more times than I’m comfortable with. If I’m nice, if I offer to help, if I ease, save, solve, I will receive the same in return. In which case I am making empathy a transaction with conditional expectations. Who was I to assume that this kidney bean needed solving or saving? This is not empathy, this is emotional consumerism. This is virtue heraldry. This does not serve the kidney bean.

Or…

Who was I really empathizing with? The kidney bean or myself. It’s possible I was projecting my historic sense of loneliness onto this kidney bean. I was imposing a narrative on their experience that was my own. It is highly likely that this kidney bean did not feel like the least interesting person at the Thanksgiving table as a young sprout. And I’m sure they don’t feel a sense of inadequacy when their fellow kidney beans talk about the latest article from the Sunday Times which they still get delivered. And it is doubtful that this kidney bean takes notice of how much narrower the other kidney beans’ waists are. I know nothing of this kidney bean’s story, nor did I take the time to find out. This is not empathy. This is narrative piracy. This does not serve the kidney bean.

Or...

Perhaps it was one of those rare moments when, free from ego or agenda, I did not want that kidney bean to die alone, but, instead, be eaten with their friends. Empathy requires past experience. It demands the personalization that is the result of living through something. And, after the recognition of that, it also requires the act of getting out of the way. Of releasing expectation of reward. Of shedding solution seeking. It demands the extraordinary act of absolute stillness. Of simply being with another human in the thick of a lived moment and understanding because you’ve lived a similar moment. It’s the act of being present without being prescriptive or proactive. It’s the extraordinary privilege of sharing the peace that we truly are not alone, and the pain or ache or stagnation or anger or fear is more manageable when shared; just as the joy, surprise and awe is more magnificent when shared.

So, in fact, empathy is not a hindrance, but an act of bravery; because sharing one’s heart is scary and risky and vulnerable, and has the power to connect all of the different us-es, no matter who we are. And though it may seem silly to empathize with a kidney bean, especially considering the irony of ultimately eating it, I will not resist the impulse any time it arises, because the more I practice, the better equipped I’ll be when empathy is required on a personal, local, national and even global level.