This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Chaplaincy Speaker Series: Healthy Compassion in Crises and Disasters with Nathan Jishin Michon. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

Chaplaincy Speaker Series: Healthy Compassion in Crises and Disasters - Nathan Jishin Michon

The following talk was given by Nathan Jishin Michon at The Sati Center in Redwood City, CA on March 24, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Introduction

Host: Welcome, everybody. We have Nathan Jishin Michon with us this morning. Nathan is a postdoctoral JSPS research fellow at Ryukoku University in Kyoto, Japan, focused on Buddhist chaplaincy. They especially focus on the development of Buddhist chaplaincy training programs around Japan.

Jishin previously worked in hospice and disaster care. He previously trained in the Zen and Thai Forest traditions for a number of years and then ordained both as a Shingon Buddhist priest and as an Interfaith Minister.

Jishin is the editor of works such as Refuge in the Storm: Buddhist Voices in Crisis Care, which came out very recently. It is a compilation of different essays around the subject of crisis care and Buddhist chaplaincy. For anyone interested in this subject, I believe this is quite a unique publication. He also edited A Thousand Hands: A Guidebook to Caring for Your Buddhist Community. Jishin is also the co-editor of the Oxford Research Encyclopedia’s entry on Buddhist chaplaincy, among other works. Thank you so much for joining us.

Chaplaincy Speaker Series: Healthy Compassion in Crises and Disasters

Nathan Jishin Michon: It is wonderful to be with you all today. I am here in Japan, where I have spent a good portion of the past decade. One of the things I was doing was working in Northern Japan, in Sendai. That is, of course, where they had the huge tsunami and earthquake just over ten years ago.

In the US, most people have heard of Fukushima, but Fukushima prefecture was actually just south of where the epicenter was. The epicenter hit just off the coast of Miyagi prefecture, where Sendai and the surrounding villages are. That is where the huge damage was, especially along the coast. There was literally a tsunami over one hundred feet at its height crashing into the coast. It caused incredible damage and vast devastation. But in the wake of that, there was also an incredible outpouring of volunteerism and support, the Buddhist community included.

Café de Monk

One of those movements was begun by a Zen monk named Taio Kaneta. He started a little thing called "Café de Monk." This was a play on words because "monk" in English means monk, but in Japanese, the word monku means "to complain." This was a place where people surviving and getting their bearings could come to these pop-up cafes and complain about what was happening in their lives to the monks. In a sense, they were volunteer listening cafes.

At first, the intention was to really be with people and listen to their stories. But as Kaneta, the founder, came to find out, nobody really wanted to share their stories at first. This is partly due to the fact that people just after the fact don't necessarily want to share their stories right away. They don't even necessarily have their bearings at that point. Trying to force that out doesn't necessarily come with a great response.

The café began to take on patterns that would show throughout the subsequent years. At first, they would simply set out group tables with tea, coffee, and free snacks. People could simply be with others in these new communities. The ability to simply have some light chit-chat without really having to think about other things started to open people up.

They were often in temporary housing communities formed from survivors of the disaster. After having this chance to warm up and talk, sometimes the stories would start to emerge. It would be a more organic process. At each of these tables, there would be a few people from the community along with one or two volunteers. If somebody was struggling with a story and seemed like they wanted to say something but were hesitant, a volunteer could say, "Oh, would you like to talk about that a little more in private?" We could invite somebody to chairs off to the side to talk more privately if they preferred.

It ended up incorporating a lot more community building as well. He would sometimes have karaoke, incorporating local songs and traditional dance into the café experiences. It had a pattern of joyful "coming together" activity and chatting. If people wanted to dive a little deeper, the middle portion had more conversation times. The final portion was more about coming together again, having this song and dance to build connections and joyful memories. That was a really important part of it.

Listening with the Whole Body

I want to read one page from my book where I translated a number of long quotes from this founder. I think he brings out a number of points particular to Japanese culture and language which might be interesting.

This is a quote from Kaneta:

"Even when a person says 'pain,' ten different people probably use that word with ten different meanings. There is a story behind each of those words. To help truly understand what they are saying and to show them we are present, we have to listen not only with our ears but with our entire bodies."

He points out that Japanese has two different characters to write "listen," even though they are pronounced the same way: kiku. The first character simply refers to the common idea of listening through the ears. But the second, he says:

"...means listening with all your heart and mind throughout the body. The sound that enters our ears carries not only information but emotion. The way of speaking, the intonation, the subtle senses that surround it all—we have to observe those clues carefully to truly listen. It involves listening with all our senses and our entire bodies. Without this, we can't get to the heart of what they are truly trying to say."

Café de Monk, however, is not always a somber place. Quite to the contrary, it is peppered with humor. Kaneta believes that humor is important in times of sadness and suffering. One more quote from him:

"I like to play with words. One of the ways to refer to Buddhist priests in Japan, bōzu¹, has the same pronunciation in Japanese as the popular music speaker company, Bose. Making little jokes while playing with words in the conversations helped to lighten the mood and loosen people's tension. Of course, you also have to be very careful with humor. If you are perceived as making light of another's suffering, you can make their wounds cut even deeper than they already are. We have to be careful not to assume that a joke that works in one situation will work equally well in another. But by reading the room and the atmosphere, it can be a great tool to loosen the tension in the air. Viktor Frankl once said, 'Humor is another of the soul's weapons in the fight for self-preservation.' A good joke can actually connect to and sympathize with another's pain. I think that humor done with deep listening is born in and for the present moment as an art of improvised love."

Post-Disaster Spiritual Care

One thing to keep in mind in these disaster situations is that people are not necessarily ready to tell their story right away. One of the things we have to do is first just check in on basic needs. I like to think of it along the lines of being out at sea. If somebody is in danger of drowning, send out a life preserver first. Give people a basis to start being able to comfortably float. They might not be in a state where they can solidly stand on the land yet.

We can do this just through our own calming presence. Make sure that we are coming to them with at least some baseline sense of calm. But also check in on basic needs. People coming out of a severe crisis might not be thinking about food or water. Asking, "Do you need anything to drink? Need anything to eat?" might suddenly bring awareness to some of these physical needs.

Also, check in with things like medicine. If people in a severe disaster situation left the house really quickly, they might not have taken important medications. Connecting them to medical personnel can be really important. We act as a connection point.

After this initial check-in, if they do start to seem to want to share their stories, then we can help them to slowly piece together what has just happened and engage in our deep listening.

Defining Compassion

This brings up a question that comes up with doctors, nurses, crisis workers, and chaplains: What ultimately do we do with our hearts? Do we close them up to protect ourselves, making a wall? Or do we open ourselves up and potentially open us up to pain and difficulties in ourselves as well?

It is useful to take one step back and think about the word "compassion." The English word "compassion" ultimately comes from the Latin root compati, which means "to suffer together." In some ways, that can be heartwarming. But as a Buddhist, my goal is overcoming suffering. How do I balance this with the idea of suffering together? Isn't suffering something I am supposed to be getting past?

The idea of karuṇā² in Buddhism is actually very telling. As Bhikkhu Anālayo points out, compassion in the Buddhist sense of the word karuṇā is the concern for others. He emphasizes that rather than compassion being a focus on suffering (which would be a different kind of state of mind), karuṇā is the focus on the concern for others' well-being and the hope that they will be better and released from suffering. The focus is more on this concern and hope for release of suffering rather than the suffering itself.

Psychologists doing studies on compassion have had a lot of influence from Buddhist traditions in recent years. One of the ways that some psychologists define compassion is "a state of concern for the suffering or unmet needs of another, coupled with a desire to alleviate that suffering." That definition is really similar to how Bhikkhu Anālayo defines karuṇā.

Three Types of Compassion

There are a number of different ways we can talk about compassion. Jamil Zaki, a professor at Stanford University, helped in a large study of nurses looking into the different types of compassion they described feeling. He ultimately categorized three main forms:

1. Sharing: This is in some ways the most base level that is natural to us as humans. We reflect what is happening in the person before us. Even babies show this; if we are crying, the baby is likely to be upset. If we are laughing, the baby might reflect that. This is emotional contagion.
2. Thinking About: A cognitive form of compassion where we imagine what is the state of mind of the person in front of us. We understand what is going on, but maybe not so much the emotions.
3. Caring About: Also called "Empathic Concern." This is the actual concern and hope that another person's suffering will diminish.

From moment to moment, we might go through all three of these. We might have two or three all at once, or one might be more dominant. One of the really interesting points from these studies was that those nurses who were much more focused on the aspect of Sharing (reflecting emotions) were far more likely to experience secondary stress and compassion fatigue. Those who were much more focused on the aspect of Empathic Concern (the hope that suffering will diminish) were far less likely to experience secondary stress and compassion fatigue.

Eve Ekman, who is also involved in those studies, summarizes it this way:

"Empathic distress and empathic concern are only weakly related. Someone who experiences deep distress does not necessarily feel deep concern, and vice versa. In caring professions, knowing the difference between these states is vital. Distress motivates people to escape others' suffering, but caregivers can't do that without abandoning their post. This leaves them with a punishing psychological burden. In fact, of the different kinds of empathy, only distress tracks burnout among doctors, nurses, and social workers. Concern, on the other hand, gives them a way to emotionally connect with patients without taking on their pain. Caregivers who tend towards concern rather than distress are less likely to suffer from empathic injuries. In other words, empathy and compassion doesn't have to produce burnout at all, and experiencing the right kind might actually prevent it."

An important aspect is being aware from moment to moment: what type of compassion or empathy are we feeling? With that awareness, we can slowly direct these forms of compassion towards more healthy and sustainable states.

Q&A

Jim: I like what you are saying about the difference between empathic concern and empathic distress. Offering spiritual care, especially in an emergency department or the ICU, some cases just stick with me and do cause distress, while some don't. It seems that the things I am afraid of are the things that will cause me distress. When I encounter a life situation that reminds me of my own or some particular trauma I fear, I respond more with distress and less with concern. Having done long-term spiritual care in crisis, how have you dealt with that dynamic and taken care of yourself along the way?

Nathan: Great question. For me, my Buddhist influence really comes out in this. I find taking the Four Noble Truths not just as a philosophy but as a moment-to-moment practice really useful.

Empathic distress is essentially the moment of the First Noble Truth: the stress and suffering (Dukkha). The task of that first truth is deep exploration and understanding. What is this empathic distress?

As we understand it more, that leads to the Second Noble Truth: the origin of suffering. Aha, this is where that is coming from. The task is to let go of that origin in whatever way we can.

That leads to the Third Noble Truth: cessation.

Then we transition to Empathic Concern and move into the practice of the Fourth Noble Truth (the Eightfold Path). We revitalize our Right Speech, Right Listening, and Right Action. Being with the people in front of us through those principles creates a positive feedback loop.

A Personal Example

There was a time when I was new to Café de Monk. I wasn't really ready for the individual who was in front of me. I was listening to this person who I thought was another volunteer. Then they heard that I was a chaplain and a Buddhist priest, and they suddenly launched into this story of deep distress. It was like a bubble bursting.

I was caught off guard. It froze me physically for some moments. I saw my internal gears turning, thinking, "Whoa, this is not simply getting my orientation... I have to jump into chaplain mode." I had a lot of empathic distress working in me at that time.

But seeing some of the origins—my lack of mental preparation—I realized I needed to reorient myself and re-center. That allowed for the transition into really being with the individual. It allowed me to see the tension inside me. I thought, "Okay, lots of tension. How do I let go of that? Maybe I'll breathe with that a little more."

Going through these steps from moment to moment, as best as I possibly could without taking too much focus away from the person, helped. When I see something significantly distracting or putting me in an unhealthy state of mind, taking a moment to be embodied and deal with that helps free the attention up to better be with the person in front of me.