We watched "The Painted Vail" last night and I find myself dwelling on the sorrow of the suffering and death and the ultimate finding, and then loss of pure love. My gift of empathy taken me for a fool often and I find myself at day's end realizing I have devoted entirely too much time thinking on pain that I have witnessed. I'll think of it less tomorrow and less yet the day after until I return the movie and am forced to look at the cover and see the face of those who told the story so well. I feel myself being drawn to contact the actors to assure they are well and in good spirits - a producer's ultimate success. How do I own my gift of empathy without it owning me? It pay me no achievement to think on sadness periodically throughout the day. I do not benefit in any way, but instead waste emotional and mental energy on fiction.
