We live in a world that teaches us the art of the shield. From a young age, we are conditioned to armor our hearts, to curate our empathy, and to selectively care only for that which is easy, palatable, or safe. We have become masters of the subtle flinch: that internal turning away from the homeless person on the corner, the uncomfortable tension in our own chests, or the heavy, unexpressed grief of a neighbor. But what if the very shields we built to protect ourselves have
