The Alchemy of Tenderness
Tenderness. The word itself evokes a sensation of care and safety. Subtle yet potent, it is, in my opinion, precisely what we, as a species, are most in need of right now.
American poet and essayist Jane Hirshfield wrote, “Tenderness does not choose its own uses. It goes out to everything equally.” In this light, tenderness is more than an emotion; it’s an orientation, an emotional positioning, and ultimately, a choice. It’s the decision to move beyond the ego’s dictate to condemn, judge, and divide, and instead, to offer presence and love. When seen in this way, tenderness becomes not just a virtue, but a deeply human and necessary response — one that brings us closer to ourselves, but more importantly, to one another.
It’s not difficult to sense that we are living with a deeply distressed nervous system at a species level. The chronic stream of troubling news has become a near-constant presence in many of our lives, often leaving us feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and hardened. We absorb “the weight of the world,” and in attempting to manage such widespread rupture and pain, we ourselves become ruptured. Primed for survival, we’ve overinvested in our defence mechanisms, suspicions, and judgments. However, in doing so, we become disconnected from both our own wholeness and the humanity of others.
There is no easy fix for the crisis humanity now faces. More than a problem, what we are confronted with is a predicament. Author and mystic Caroline Myss uses the word “predicament” to describe conditions that mirror a deeper truth, often spiritual in nature, that require a shift in our inner landscape. A problem can be solved with logic or strategy. A predicament, however, asks us to reconsider our beliefs, values, and way of being. Through that lens, what becomes clear is that what humanity needs is a profound reorientation toward Self and one another; an orientation rooted in love.
Healing is rarely easy, but it can be simple, and while I don’t purport to have any easy answers, I will offer this: try tenderness. Ease up on certainty and trade a few strong opinions for a little curiosity. Choose connection over being right. And perhaps, when you’re ready, offer forgiveness — first to others, and then to yourself.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Forgiveness is not an occasional act; it is a constant attitude.” And doesn’t the same is true for tenderness? It’s not a reaction — it’s a choice. And right now, it may be one of the most restorative choices we can make in healing the soul of humanity.
Lay down your grievances, dear friends. Choose love. Teach peace. Seek out a tender moment, and as Billy Joel wisely advises, leave that tender moment alone. Each of us is way more than the worst things we’ve ever said or done. Let us remember that and, more importantly, let us remind one another.
Humanity is not merely fraying at the edges — we are burning. And yet we cannot afford the weight of despair. Resist the urge to fixate on your brother’s guilt and instead, remember this: “The holiest of all the spots on earth are where an ancient hatred has become a present love” (A Course in Miracles).
We’re here for one reason, my sisters and brothers: we’re here to remember love.
And when we do, the light has come. Let us usher it in together.