I wish this column were online, but do read it if you can find it anywhere--Liguorian, May-June 2017: "Compassion Fatigue" by Kathleen M. Basi.
One quote: "We must constantly disceren where to draw the line between "mine" and "what I'm called to use for the benefit of humanity."
I've decided this applies to time and talent as well as treasure.
Because I know some living saints against whom I always fall woefully short, even the idea of thinking I have compassion fatigue seems completely selfish.
And yet sometimes I just look at everything I've been asked to do and said I could do and start feeling sorry for myself.
The good news is that I'm volunteering at the camp for children with cancer again---but doing it on my terms. Last year, staying 24 hours a day, it seemed as though there were plenty of times I was just hanging around doing nothing, because the college-age counselors had everything under control. I was "support staff," and helped with arts and crafts, sat with kids who felt sick, and just tagged along.
So this year, I will be traveling back and forth (about 40 minutes each way) and pretty much being there when I'm needed. Setting things up and registration. Doing music activities in the afternoon, with a performance Friday night. Teaching balloon art one night, dressing as a clown optional (I did it last year, so I will probably do it this year).
So much more manageable, and I'll even go to my job some mornings (things are pretty peaceful this time of year, so it's a great time for camp).
I feel less 'compassion fatigue,' but I know that the director would prefer I was there all the time, "because it's always good to have an extra person or two around..."
And if something happened that required an extra person, I'd only be 40 minutes away, and I could come.
But then there's the guilt...how come I'm not as compassionate as the living saints I know?
"Liberal guilt."
Do any of you identify with this?
One quote: "We must constantly disceren where to draw the line between "mine" and "what I'm called to use for the benefit of humanity."
I've decided this applies to time and talent as well as treasure.
Because I know some living saints against whom I always fall woefully short, even the idea of thinking I have compassion fatigue seems completely selfish.
And yet sometimes I just look at everything I've been asked to do and said I could do and start feeling sorry for myself.
The good news is that I'm volunteering at the camp for children with cancer again---but doing it on my terms. Last year, staying 24 hours a day, it seemed as though there were plenty of times I was just hanging around doing nothing, because the college-age counselors had everything under control. I was "support staff," and helped with arts and crafts, sat with kids who felt sick, and just tagged along.
So this year, I will be traveling back and forth (about 40 minutes each way) and pretty much being there when I'm needed. Setting things up and registration. Doing music activities in the afternoon, with a performance Friday night. Teaching balloon art one night, dressing as a clown optional (I did it last year, so I will probably do it this year).
So much more manageable, and I'll even go to my job some mornings (things are pretty peaceful this time of year, so it's a great time for camp).
I feel less 'compassion fatigue,' but I know that the director would prefer I was there all the time, "because it's always good to have an extra person or two around..."
And if something happened that required an extra person, I'd only be 40 minutes away, and I could come.
But then there's the guilt...how come I'm not as compassionate as the living saints I know?
"Liberal guilt."
Do any of you identify with this?