When I experience pain, fear, and wounds, and rest with it, perhaps ask myself simple questions about it, and find love for it, something happens. I find more peace with it. I befriend it. I see it’s coming from worried love. I see it’s coming from an attempt to protect the (imagined) self.
And something else happens. When others act and speak from their own passion, fear, and wounds, it’s easier to recognize it as worried love, and deep caring.
To the extent I am familiar with the first, the second may happen as a side effect.