there is such a thing as too much empathy and I’m a victim of it. In tolerable doses like a ligament that connects to other life, to people and planets, to love for a questing heron and pain for the fish it’s eating simultaneously. But it’s strength can become unbearable, an expanding gravitational well that pulls in all of the sister Pathos, until you suffer nothing for yourself. Your heart becomes a moon in orbit, creating tides inspiring the science and poetry in others, but barren and cratered, uninhabitable. Love the things you can touch more.