The Quiet Power of Compassion in Difficult Work
I’ve recently started working with someone who isn’t quite ready to take responsibility for some of the harmful behaviour they’ve shown. It’s the kind of situation that can be difficult to sit with—especially when there’s real impact and real pain involved. It would be easy to meet denial or defensiveness with frustration or even confrontation. But instead, something more transformational has begun to unfold.
We’ve been talking this week -carefully and slowly – about how good people sometimes do terrible things. Not to excuse the behaviour, but to try and hold a fuller picture which takes account of the complexity of humanity. These aren’t easy conversations. There’s often shame hovering just below the surface, or fear of being fully seen. But I’ve been meeting those moments with compassion rather than conflict. And it’s been heartening to see what that small shift can do.
What’s been most touching is how this approach has allowed for connection, where this person habitually relies on disconnection as a survival strategy. Trust is beginning to build between us because we’re not trying to rush the process. We’re just staying with what’s true right now.
Compassion doesn’t mean letting someone off the hook. It doesn’t mean pretending the harm didn’t happen, or that it doesn’t matter. But it does mean trying to see the whole person, not just the behaviour. It means understanding that sometimes, people aren’t yet able to face the parts of themselves that they fear the most. And that change, when it does come, often starts with feeling safe enough to be seen.
That’s what I’m beginning to notice here. By not demanding that this person jump ahead to responsibility before they’re ready, I think we’re laying the groundwork for real change. I feel genuinely hopeful that over time, they’ll be able to increase their sense of responsibility—not because they were pushed into it, but because they came to it on their own terms. That’s when the transformative process can begin.
Offering compassion in these moments isn’t always easy. It asks something of us too—patience, presence, and sometimes sitting with our own discomfort. It’s natural to want people to change quickly, especially when harm has been done. And it’s understandable to feel blocked when they don’t. But if we can pause and ask ourselves, Where is this person in the cycle of change?, we’re less likely to get stuck in reactivity. We’re more able to meet the moment with clarity and steadiness.
There’s something deeply powerful in choosing not to fight someone’s resistance, but instead to be curious about what it’s protecting. Compassion can open doors that confrontation can’t. It doesn’t guarantee change, but it creates the conditions where change becomes possible.
This work can be slow, uncertain, and emotionally complex. But sometimes, the simple act of showing up with compassion—without giving up on accountability—can be the very thing that starts to turn the tide.