Tag Archives: transformation

A Thought for 2018: Be Kind … To Yourself!

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
– Rumi –

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It has taken me a very long time to come to grips with how harshly I often judge myself. Those familiar with the Enneagram will understand the judge and jury that are the companions of Ones – you don’t need to beat us up too much when we have failed, we are experts at holding ourselves to strict account. It’s exhausting!

Learning to be kind to myself has taken time. Isn’t it strange how we can show such patience and understanding towards others but often fail to apply the same kindness to ourselves? Many readers will identify with that disapproving voice in our heads that becomes amplified when we do not meet our often unrealistic expectations. We all deal with it in different ways. Learning to truly love who we are and to be kind to ourselves can be one of life’s greatest lessons.

Dr Kristin Neff suggests that ‘self-compassion’ is allowing ourselves the same kindness and care we would give to a good friend. She explains the three elements of self-compassion as:

1. Self-Kindness vs. Self-Judgement.

In order to be kind to ourselves, we realise that perfection is never achievable and that we have compassionate understanding for when we suffer, fail, or feel inadequate, rather than ignoring our pain or flagellating ourselves.

2. Common Humanity vs. Isolation.

She explains that there is a danger in isolating ourselves and nurturing the idea that we are the only person suffering or who makes mistakes. Rather, we need to recognise that suffering and personal inadequacy are part of the shared human experience – something we all face.

3. Mindfulness vs. Over-Identification.

This means taking a balanced approach to our emotions so that our negative feelings are neither suppressed nor exaggerated. Mindfulness is a practice in which we observe our thoughts and feelings without judgement, simply for what they are without trying to suppress or deny them. At the same time, we are not to be ‘over-identified’ with our thoughts and feelings so that we are caught up in them.

Self-compassion is not self-pity (being immersed in our own problems), it is not self-indulgence (demonstrated by over-eating, taking drugs, etc), and it is not to be mistaken with self-esteem (which can become an unhealthy pursuit of Western culture to determine our worth and how special we are). To be kind to ourselves we don’t have to feel better than others and we don’t need to feed any narcissistic tendencies. We simply understand that all humans deserve kindness and understanding – and that includes us!

So as you plan or glance at 2018 here is a suggestion. Look in the mirror and realise that you are a living being (I don’t like to narrow it simply to the human world) and that all living beings require kindness. In fact, kindness changes things. It diffuses anger, it creates a better world, it brings peace, and it carries joy. There is a divine energy in kindness that cannot be measured or contained but it is transformational. If you set one goal for 2018 let it be kindness and include yourself in that goal! Dr Neff provides some exercises in this practice of mindful compassion – see link.

Long before our modern world, a Rabbi said we should love our neighbour as we love ourselves (Mark 12:31). As the divine source, Jesus understood the inter-connectedness of our world and that we cannot be in peaceful, loving relationship with others when our inner world is filled with judgement and self-loathing. So as you go on this path of embracing kindness, remember that you are letting go of perhaps a life-long habit of yelling at yourself. In the quest for greater kindness, be patient with yourself.

May 2018 be filled with shalom and kindness.

“With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend.” – Dr Kristin Neff – 

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Grief – Stay With It

 

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Scrolling through Facebook the other day, this post of a friend caught my eye:

We can’t leap over our grief work,
Nor can we skip over our despair work.
We have to feel it…. Historic cultures saw grief as a time of incubation, transformation, and necessary hibernation. Yet this sacred space is the very space we avoid”
– Richard Rohr –

It was a poignant reminder for a very wobbly time of year for me. I have blogged about grief and loss numerous times. In “An Uninvited Guest: Reflections on Grief”, I outlined why the Christmas season holds a lot of triggers for me. Since that post, life has continued with crazy highs and lows – the loss of a house that I loved and a faith community that I thought would always be ‘home’. I have said goodbye to a city I treasure and the precious individuals it holds, some of those goodbyes have been gut-wrenching as they held a finality that we didn’t see coming.

I am not outlining these circumstances to evoke your sympathy. Far from it. Rather, I am writing them down because as living creatures we all identify with grief and sorrow. Someone explained grief as the feeling you have when you have been winded – everything stops and you wonder whether you will ever breathe again. No wonder that we do all we can to try and usher this uninvited guest out of our house. And maybe that why we create hyperreal spaces and experiences?

After my mum passed away a lot of well-meaning people (especially those who held tightly to a more ‘triumphant’ form of Christianity) made a lot of comments and queries about ‘moving on’. “Time heals,” they would say, “and you will move on.” I heard what they were saying. I appreciated their concern. They wanted me to join the dance again – that dance of oblivious happiness. And I do dance again – but it is not the smooth Cha Cha from the first half of life.

Nowadays, grief pays a regular visit. I no longer feel shocked. I no longer try to usher this guest out of my house. Rather, and probably to the horror of some, I welcome this visitor. I sit with it and share in the memories. Grief has dramatically changed the way I look at the world. I feel so much more connected and grounded because of it. I know I have a level of compassion that I never had in my “black-and-white” paradigm. I also wonder whether I ever really understood what love meant in the first half of life? That is a rather ironic reflection considering I spoke on so many platforms about love.

Grief changes us. It transforms us from the inside out. When we refuse to ‘leap over our grief work or skip over our despair work’ we grow. Things that were once so important and that are still heralded as desirables, like success and influence, no longer hold much appeal. Grief teaches us that we have life, that life is precious, and the response to life is gratitude …

“The work of the mature person is to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other and to be stretched large by them. How much sorrow can I hold? That’s how much gratitude I can give. If I carry only grief, I’ll bend toward cynicism and despair. If I have only gratitude, I’ll become saccharine and won’t develop much compassion for other people’s suffering. Grief keeps the heart fluid and soft, which helps make compassion possible.”
– Francis Weller, The Wild Edge of Sorrow –

I also reflect on my faith. Grief challenges the platitudes, the certainties, the absolutes. Many years ago Grief came calling with a friend … Doubt. I was horrified back then. There was no room for grief, never mind doubt, in my early ideological framework. Now I smile to myself as I write this. How wrong I was. If anything, grief and doubt have deepened, enriched and strengthened my faith – through these guests I discovered an all-gracious, incarnate God who undergirds our universe.

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But grief is not pleasant. Grief is painful. It still brings with it times of panic and anxiety and a deep desire to escape. No one goes looking for it – grief find us and there is no place to run. So we have to take courage, we have to stop, turn and stay with it. No one can outrun or remain immune from grief.

Dear Reader, if you, like me find the Christmas season a little more difficult than those around you, please know you are not alone. The heartache you feel, for whatever reason, is real and there are some things in life that sit with us and us with them for a long time. I would recommend that you do not go this alone or isolate yourself – this link provides some keys in coping with grief in the holiday season. A season that for many holds a marred joy … where we can feel pain AND we can sing carols … where we can smile at the delight of the young AND mourn the loss of those who have gone before us … it’s all part of sitting with an uninvited guest while still dancing our life dance … with a limp …

As I finished this blog another friend put up a post – needless to say, it is the perfect way to end:

“We are remade in times of grief, broken apart and reassembled. It is hard, painful, unbidden work. No one goes in search of loss; rather, it finds us and reminds us of the temporary gift we have been given, these few sweet breaths we call life…. It was through the dark waters of grief that I came to touch my unlived life, by at last unleashing tears I had never shed for the losses in my world. Grief led me back into a world that was vivid and radiant. There is some strange intimacy between grief and aliveness, some sacred exchange between what seems unbearable and what is most exquisitely alive. Through this, I have come to have a lasting faith in grief.”
– Francis Weller, The Wild Edge of Sorrow –

Much love to you all this Christmas.

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