I see you - The empathy of vision

​I see you – The empathy of vision
 
Cassius Clay who later took the name of Mohammad Ali died a few days ago at the age of 74.  He had lived with Parkinson’s disease for many years.
The story of his life journey and the grief which so many are experiencing has seemingly been the only story in many months which could supplant the 24/7 news coverage of the presidential primary campaign in the United States. That alone should tell us a lot.  Obviously, I do not need to repeat or summarize what everyone can read for themselves or hear for themselves on one of the many news or sports programs on the television, the internet or in local, national and international newspapers.  Suffice it to say that his courage, passion and capacity for empathy will be greatly missed by many.
 Since I have been writing on the many faces of empathy, one story which I had previously not heard captured my attention.  It is:
 “At the age of 12, a curious incident set young Cassius Clay on a new path. On an October afternoon he rode his new bike to the Columbia Auditorium. Later, when he went back to get it, it had been stolen. Someone told him there was a police officer in the basement, so Clay went down there. The basement turned out to be a boxing gym—the officer, Joe Martin, was a boxing enthusiast with his own gym. After listening to his volley of threats against whoever stole the bike, Martin invited him to come around to his gym and learn something about boxing.
Six weeks after he started training with Joe Martin, Clay fought and won his first bout. Over the next few years of his training, Martin became more and more impressed, not only with Clay's speed and strength, but even more by his mental quickness and his ability to take a punch without the twin dangers of getting mad or going into a panic. In high school, Clay became a very successful amateur boxer, winning six Kentucky Golden Gloves Championships and two nationals. By the time he graduated, he had 100 wins and only 8 losses. Throughout the 1950s, he also appeared on a local television program, Tomorrow's Champions. He was paid four dollars for each televised match. Then, shortly after graduation, he won a gold medal at the 1960 Rome Olympics in light-heavy-weight boxing match.   He decided to turn pro. (Muhammad Ali – A Stolen Bicycle   sportsjrank.org)
 
I never met Mr. Martin but I suspect that he was one of those community treasures who could look at the young Cassius and see himself as a young man.   This  willingness to see something other than the anger which Cassius was expressing about his stolen bike is the essence of empathy.  The rest, as they say, is history.  It is possible, of course, that if Mr. Martin had not SEEN Cassius, Cassius might have looked in the mirror one day and seen CASSIUS.  It is also possible that someone else might have seen CASSIUS and invited him to explore the possibility of his talent, courage and empathy for others.   It is also possible that someone might have offered him an opportunity to explore a diversionary activity or just an outlet for his anger without actually SEEING Cassius. 
 
I like to think that Mr. Martin SAW/FELT Cassius; that he reached deep into his own vulnerable soul  and connected that invisible (to the naked eye) cord which gave Cassius access to a talent and a heart which would  not only assure his place in history but the ability  to SEE millions of other youth and adults. 
 
It seems to me that pure empathy is:
 
·      The willingness to own and share one’s own human vulnerability.
·      The willingness to grab that chord from one’s often painful vulnerability and connect it to that of another person.
 
Thanks to all those who are willing to SEE – to experience and share empathy.
 
 
Written June 5, 2016