Empathy, Sympathy, and Autonomy
Feeling deeply, caring honestly, and still staying connected to ourselves
Looking back on the past week, I can say that participating in the half marathon and achieving my goal gave me more of a boost than I initially expected. After a well-deserved and relatively relaxed start to the week, I began to feel increasingly restless. Maybe it was some leftover energy, or perhaps it was the desire to channel that surge of motivation into something productive—to prevent slipping back into lethargy. But maybe it was the first sign that I was beginning to feel more at ease within myself again, both physically and mentally. That my sensory feelers were carefully reaching outward again, sensing the potential that surrounds us.
This (not so) subtle restlessness caught my attention.
Just a couple of months ago, in early February, all I wanted was to fully surrender to stillness. I wanted to give myself permission—without guilt or harsh self-judgment—to demand a silence that would allow me to better understand, process, and communicate my needs. Both to myself and to the outside world. It was a self-imposed pause.
During this pause, I was confronted with states that pushed me to my limits—especially in the tension between physical exhaustion and the persistent mental patterns urging me into activity. These forces often clashed beneath the surface, locked in an internal battle.
Staying centered within ourselves—in a neutral space—is hard, but not impossible.
We are constantly exposed to both external and internal stimuli. How they affect us, whether and how deeply they influence our perception and emotional state, ultimately lies with us. A single thought can set things in motion, even if we don’t immediately recognize the impulse. Its energetic waves may only reach our conscious mind once it’s already doing its work. Maybe that’s what happened—I suddenly felt more in touch with the ability to respond to my inner voice again.
I began to “hear” myself again.
This inner dialogue is the starting point of my perception. What I hear is decipherable and can be contextualized—depending on my knowledge, life experiences, and background. But how what I hear affects me, how it resonates within, is entirely up to me. It depends on my ability to act from a rational standpoint, rather than getting lost in the emotional subtext of my immediate reactions.
Self-empathy gives rise to understanding. Understanding allows for exchange—with myself, with others, with the world. But understanding doesn’t automatically translate into sympathy. I can be empathetic toward myself without approving of everything I think or feel. I can stay in touch with my emotions without getting swept away by them.
Between empathy and sympathy lies our autonomy.
This intersection—this space of conscious response—is our space for agency. It’s the place where we decide how we want to act. Whether we simply react or consciously create a response.
And right there, in the mindful shaping of our reactions, lies a unique power. It emerges in the authenticity of how we respond, in the awareness of our values, knowledge, morality, and imagination. It rises above pure reactivity, puts reactionism in its place, and reclaims our inner decisive authority.
Not in the sense of self-congratulation or flattering the status quo—but as a calm, open, multidimensional inner space.
A space that invites stillness.
So that we don’t lose ourselves in our emotions.
So that we can stay connected to ourselves.
So that we can trust that our thoughts will lead to meaningful consequences—within ourselves and in our interactions with others.
This realization of course isn’t new at all—but this week, it came to me with renewed clarity. It was tied to the reawakening of a force that had long been suppressed.
The infamous “inner sloth” (or innerer Schweinehund in German)—so often the source of self-deprecating thoughts—is not our enemy. It is a part of us. Ever-present, demanding, sometimes loud. But in its childlike simplicity, it is conquerable.
With patience.
With open sensory awareness.
And with the conscious decision to stay rooted in ourselves.
With that in mind, I’m wishing you a week filled with clarity of mind, softness of heart, and the quiet strength to stay close to yourself—no matter what arises.
Much love,
Paul ♥️