Reflections on Empathy, Presence, and the Self
Written by Julia Elstrodt, Psychotherapist
Julia Elstrodt is an Ivy League-educated psychotherapist who helps people overcome trauma, reconnect with joy, and find wholeness. She works in private practice and in collaboration with charities supporting survivors of domestic violence, modern slavery, and other forms of gender-based violence.
I have felt an affinity for Carl Rogers since I first learned about his work and recently decided to study him in more depth. My understanding of empathy, previously a rather static concept–either you have it, or you don't–shifted after reflecting more deeply on Rogers' work and the idea of empathy itself.
In a well-known quote, he states, "People are just as wonderful as sunsets if you let them be. When I look at a sunset, I don't find myself saying, 'Soften the orange a bit on the right-hand corner.' I don't try to control a sunset. I watch with awe as it unfolds." (Carl Rogers, A Way of Being, 1980) That sounds beautiful and serene, and the amount of trust in the process itself is immense.
One question keeps returning to me. If we are here to listen and observe, what difference does our presence actually make?
Empathy as a practice
One of the most liberating realizations for me is understanding empathy as a process rather than a fixed ability. We often imagine that empathic people effortlessly understand everyone they meet. But empathy is something we continuously stretch and expand within ourselves. We all have people and situations we struggle to empathize with and understand, places where our empathy falls short. Perhaps these are not weaknesses, but simply places that reveal the parts of ourselves that still need love, healing, or attention.
Recently, I found myself feeling frustrated by a colleague’s behaviour. Even though they are very skilled, they were facing some personal setbacks. I heard and felt a lot of self-doubt coming from them. A lack of belief in themselves. This was making me internally angry with them. One evening, I decided to write down my thoughts. I reflected on what this person was stirring in me. I get frustrated when I doubt myself, when I think lowly of myself. A part of me believes thinking this way is wrong and unfair, and has little patience for it. Noticing this, I gave that part of myself some love and reassurance, talked to it gently, and found greater compassion for my frustration. In the back of my mind, I wondered whether the mere fact that I was doing this would change something unspoken in our interactions.
The next time I saw them, I was in awe of how seamlessly we connected. Something resonated so deeply during our conversation that we both had tears in our eyes. The external situation had not changed, but my capacity to meet it had. Perhaps empathy grows in exactly this way, not by trying harder to understand others, but by becoming increasingly curious about ourselves.
Self-understanding across cultures
The idea that understanding others begins with examining ourselves is far from new. Across cultures and centuries, contemplative traditions have developed practices that turn our attention inward, not as an escape from our relationships with others, but as a way of transforming them.
In Japan, Naikan is a self-reflective meditation with Shin Buddhist roots, in which you examine yourself through a series of questions, attempting to see your relationships beyond your habitual perspective. The practice of Svādhyāya in Hindu philosophy translates to "self-study." It involves observing ourselves without judgment, studying sacred texts, and applying what we learn in our daily lives. Hoʻoponopono in Hawaii, particularly in its modern self-directed form, turns inward rather than focusing exclusively on changing the other person.
A common thread through these traditions is that what we encounter in the world also invites us to examine something within ourselves. Something interesting seems to happen when we shift our focus from understanding others to understanding ourselves. Indeed, self-awareness and empathy seem inevitably intertwined.
Empathy is not self-sacrifice
However, there is an important distinction worth making. Empathy does not require agreement. Nor does it ask us to excuse harmful behaviour, abandon healthy boundaries, or endlessly absorb the emotional pain of others. Understanding why someone behaves as they do is not the same as believing their actions are acceptable.
As a therapist working with survivors of trauma, this distinction feels particularly important. Many people have learned to confuse empathy with self-sacrifice. They feel responsible for understanding everyone else while neglecting themselves.
Yet genuine empathy requires both openness and discernment. We can acknowledge another person's suffering while still protecting our own wellbeing. I cannot be fully present for another person if I myself am drowning in their sorrows. In fact, clear boundaries often create the safety necessary for authentic compassion to emerge.
When I think of empathy as a self-reflective practice, rather than a means to exhaust myself for others, it becomes a much healthier and more sustainable way of relating.
The quiet power of presence
Returning to my original question, I no longer think that the therapist's presence matters simply because we are listening.
It matters because of who we are continually becoming. Every moment of self-reflection, every uncomfortable emotion explored rather than avoided, every act of self-compassion gradually expands our capacity to sit with another human being without rushing to fix, judge, or change them. I might not have had such a deep moment of connection with my colleague had I not reflected on what was rising in me.
I feel similar changes in my practice. As I become more compassionate towards myself, I begin to experience others differently. I slowly become less defensive, less reactive, leaving more room for my curiosity. I make fewer assumptions. I observe what comes up in me and file it away for later. This greatly enhances my capacity to be present and to tune in to cues I could otherwise miss.
The external situation may not change, but our capacity to meet it can. Perhaps this is why presence itself can be so healing. When someone experiences being fully seen without condemnation, they can often begin seeing themselves differently too.
A continuous practice
I no longer see empathy as a quality that some people possess and others lack. I see it as a lifelong practice of turning towards whatever arises within us with curiosity rather than judgment.
Perhaps self-empathy is not simply one form of empathy among many. Perhaps it is where all empathy begins. Perhaps that is why the quiet work we do within ourselves can ripple far beyond us, touching every relationship we have in ways we may never fully see.
Read more from Julia Elstrodt
Julia Elstrodt, Psychotherapist
Julia Elstrodt is a psychotherapist specializing in trauma and embodied awareness. Having known her vocation since age eleven, she has dedicated her life to the art of healing. Her work is rooted in the psychology of C. G. Jung, bridging psychotherapy and spirituality. Shaped by the lived experience of profound trauma, Julia is deeply committed to supporting healing in both individuals and communities.
