Dolphin Sound

          Last year at about this same time I attended a convention in San Francisco. I decided that, since I was probably not going to get much sleep, I would instead disconnect myself from my regular routine and actually try to make a vacation out of it. I took the attitude of "I don't care". What that meant was that I wasn't going to let anything attempt to distract me from relaxing. I had concerns at work, and there were family concerns as well that could have easily made me worry. I can be a great worrier.
          There is visceral power in the phrase "I don't care." It feels good to say it. To me it means "I'll give this moment so much of my personal and emotional energy or attention. Then I'll move on. I wont dwell on it." My friends loved it, however a few of them had concerns. The way I said "I don't care" so often and so forcefully was a little out of character for me. I don't know. Perhaps it seemed to them that I was becoming an asshole. Whatever. I don't care. (See how powerful that is?)
          I've always considered myself empathetic. I had a little bit of pride in my empathy. I think maybe I've been too empathetic for my own good. I would ruminate far too much about mistakes I might have made or about other people or other problems, so much so that it would drain me dry, suck out any creative energy or thought that I might have had. Sympathy is different. Sympathy is enabling. It gives me just enough detachment to see clearly what, if anything, I can do to help out, or correct a mistake, or even if a mistake has really been made. It also enables me to "move on", and that is so important. Empathy can be a good thing if it is under control. If there is too much empathy then it starts taking more then I can give.
          There is a biblical story about some bridesmaids with lamps. Half of them wasted their oil while the other half conserved. On the wedding day half of them ran out of oil. They asked the others to share. They were told "If we share our oil with you then we won't have enough. We'll share our light though." Something like that.
          Sympathy and empathy are like that. If I let empathy take too much oil I burn out. If I share a sympathetic light then I'll be more able to help or see mistakes or move on. I can stop empathy cold simply by saying "I don't care. I can sympathize, but I don't have empathy for this situation. Life goes on."
          I spent the entire weekend at the San Francisco convention last year with what I consider this very healthy attitude. I was quite prepared to bring it home, utilize it in work and in my continuing education. I had energy. Things looked bright. 2001 was going to be a banner year. There was an essay all set a ready to roll out onto this website.
          Then karma pitched a fit. The day after I got home I was in a car accident. My colt, Miss Budweiser, was totaled. It wasn't my fault. I didn't get mad at the young girl driving the other car. She already knew she was at fault. I empathized with her distress. The accident lead to a chain reaction of difficulties and frustrations that lasted literally months. The insurance representative was incompetent and unyielding. I empathized with her having to deal with stressed people all the time. I almost didn't look out for myself. The used car dealership where I replaced the car started to drag their feet about getting my title to me. I empathized with the excuses they gave me and I gave them more time. Then they went of business. The previous owner of the car wouldn't give up the title until he got paid. I didn't settle that mess until June. Sure, I was a real nice guy, but I was getting frustrated. The world was out to get me personally, right? Perhaps I used up too much great karma in San Francisco that weekend. Perhaps karma needed some pay back.
          What ever it was, I lost the magic of "I don't care" for the rest of the year. Maybe that was a good thing. The events of 9/11 needed some caring and empathy. The loss of Apie needed an emotional pause. Then again maybe it wasn't a good thing to lose that detachment. I did pretty good, considering, but how much better could I have handled personal and global events had I maintained some of the attitude of "I don't care"? And here is where the phrase could get misunderstood. I obviously do care, but that phrase is so damn strong.
          So now we are back full circle to where I was one year ago. Last year at this time I generated the attitude of "I don't care", or enough detachment from empathy and worry to keep from being bogged down. I took it with me on a very creative and fun filled weekend. That same convention is happening again in nine days. It's not that I need the event to reestablish the attitude. I should be able to do that on my own. Let's just say I plan to investigate this attitude further this year. I know I'm not supposed to recapture the magic of past events, but attitudes… that's a little different.