We often say we want to be more empathetic.

But most of us misunderstand what empathy actually is.

We assume empathy means imagining ourselves in another person’s situation and asking, “How would I feel if this happened to me?” At first glance, this sounds reasonable. Yet in practice, it often fails. 

Why?

Because the same event can produce radically different emotions in different hearts. The same words can make one person laugh and another feel deeply wounded. Even within our own lives, something that once felt devastating may later feel trivial, or something small may suddenly overwhelm us.

Allah created hearts differently. And He created them to change.

So when we imagine ourselves in someone else’s situation, we are not truly entering their world. We are projecting our own history, our own beliefs, our own emotional map onto them. And that is not empathy.

Imagine encountering a child who is crying uncontrollably because their favorite toy has broken.

An adult response, rooted in logic, might say:
“It’s just a toy. No one is hurt. It can be replaced. We can fix this.”

From the adult’s perspective, this is true.

But truth spoken without understanding can feel like rejection.

On the surface, the child is crying over a toy. But on a deeper level, the child is grieving a loss. Something precious is gone. Something loved feels irretrievable. And given the child’s limited life experience, this may be the greatest loss they have ever known.

The Prophet ﷺ never spoke to people only at the level of surface facts. He spoke to the state of the heart.

True empathy does not move forward from circumstances to emotions.

It moves backward.

Instead of asking, “What happened to them?”
We ask, “What emotion are they experiencing?”

And then we search our own hearts for a time we felt that same emotion, even if the circumstances were entirely different.

Perhaps the child’s loss reminds us, not of a broken toy, but of losing something meaningful to us, a valued possession, a car we were attached to, or a friendship that slowly slipped away.

The events are not equal.
The emotion is.

This is where connection is born.

The Qur’an speaks to this universality of the human experience. Though our lives differ, our inner landscapes are remarkably similar. 

Pain, hope, grief, love, anxiety, relief. These are shared languages of the soul.

When we approach someone with the inner posture of “I too have known this feeling,” something softens and trust forms.

And suddenly, the heart feels seen.

What emotion in others do we struggle most to sit with, and why?

^{Share your reflections in the poll at the end of the email.}

Around her neck is a rope of palm fiber.

Fī jīdihā ḥablum min masad