One quiet evening, my friend and I shared unusual experiences in our lives.  I recalled recent dreams and events that brought me unexpectedly to tears.  In one of those dreams, I saw a person whose body was disfigured and contorted.  Miraculously his body straightened and returned to health, ending his soul-crushing suffering.  In that moment, a tender softness overcame me, pulling me to embrace him.

Another instance was an afternoon in the park with my eight year-old nephew.  We played Frisbee, picked wildflowers, and jumped rope using a tree branch.  When it was about time to leave, we decided to lay down on the lawn and watch the clouds.  Soaking in the vastness of the blue sky, I was struck again by that tenderness.  I felt an outpouring of love for my nephew.  Later as we walked through the lawn, two birds circled playfully around us, as if pleading us to stay.  It was serene and mythical.

A third instance was a day trip to the beach with my parents.  From a distance near the ocean, I saw mom smiling joyfully, playing with tiny rocks in her hands.  She was child-like, care-free, and innocent.  I have rarely seen her so happy.  Tears swelled up.

It was difficult to describe what I was experiencing.  In each instance, I felt a heaviness in my chest, at the tip of the sternum.  The emotion traversed to the nose and turned into an aching sensation, tapping at the fountain of tears.  I felt sadness, at the same time happiness and joy.  Maybe it was the feeling of love.  Perhaps that’s why people describe love as tender, that love makes you vulnerable.  To tenderize is to soften.  To be vulnerable is an opening of the heart to another person.

I also related the emotions towards my nephew to a time when I was his age.  Like many children I was fearless and wore emotions on my sleeve.  Over time I learned to hide and suppress my emotions.  Perhaps I felt sad because I was grieving for the loss of that innocence.  I mourned for a time when I loved and reached out freely, without fear of being hurt.  A flower was blooming, yet the process of opening up was halted by rejection, criticism, and outbursts of anger.

I wondered if the emotion I felt towards mom was different.   It seems to be rooted in the same emotion as I had experienced in the dream that I described earlier.  Mom has suffered living with dad’s anger and raising sister and me.  She is constantly toiling away, rarely taking a break.  To see her happy, truly happy, opened a valve.  A heart valve. When it opened, a torrent of compassion flowed towards her.