I remember the first time anyone suggested that I could be kind to myself, no matter what.
Say what?
I was slumped over in my therapist's office decades ago, too depressed to have brushed my hair that morning. It was an abysmal nadir: physically and emotionally worn out, ill with a serious chronic illness that was sapping my soul, grieving multiple deep losses.
I was a mess.
Midway through the session there was a lull in the conversation, and I sat, too weary to even be uncomfortable with the silence. Sharon looked at me tenderly and asked, "Melissa, what if you were to be kind to yourself in the middle of so much suffering?"
I wish that I could tell you that my life sliced open at that point, the light got me, and I emerged a different woman.
It didn't.
What happened was closer to the Gary Larson cartoon showing a man talking to his dog. In the first panel ("what we say") he's admonishing his attentive dog: "OK, Ginger! I've had it! Stay out of the garbage! Understand, Ginger?"
The second panel ("what they hear") shows exactly the same scene, but this time the man's word balloon says "blah blah GINGER blah blah blah blah blah GINGER."
Well, sisters, that was like me. You read what Sharon actually said to me. What I heard was something closer to "blah blah blah Melissa blah blah blah." I had to have her repeat it several times until I understood.
I just couldn't take it in.
I mean, how the hell could I offer kindness to me? If I was such a friggin' mess, my thinking went, the last thing I deserved was my own kindness. What I "knew" I really needed were strong words and a swift kick in my suffering ass.
Sharon sensed the maelstrom in my head, and quietly suggested that this was the time I most needed my own kindness and compassion.
That's when the lightning struck.
OK, it wasn't a major strike, but her caring found purchase in the middle of so much self-judgment. A space opened in my heart and soul for wondering if this was indeed a possibility.
I left the session slightly less of a mess than when I'd come in. And a slow shift began inside of me that changed everything.
I started practicing self-kindness in tiny ways. I began to call myself "sweetie," the same tender name I called my small daughter. I felt ridiculous, but I imagined (and it was imagination at first, a "fake it till you make it") offering myself the same love and care I offered Elise.
As I was able to begin offering kindness to myself even in shame, grief, or despair, my capacity to offer it to everyone else deepened. It was like a muscle: the more I consciously worked it, the stronger it got.
Now, at almost-55 (that milestone's coming next month), I know that self-compassion is probably what's most needed for us gals over 45.
And the lack of it is what stands most in the way of our own flourishing. Really flourish, that deep and luscious flourishing from the inside out, that has nothing to do with our income level or state of our hair or health.
Most of us have been extending compassion and kindness and TLC to everyone around us for decades.
Everyone, that is, except our own precious selves.
We face so much change after 45, inside and out. When we meet our pain with uncommon kindness, a deep and nourishing transformation begins.
A moment of this kind of self-caring can change your day. The steady practice of it can change your life in a way that nothing else I've ever observed can (this coming from a psychotherapy and coaching practice of almost 30 years).
How, you may ask, do I do this? To which I answer: sister, one very small step at a time. Please don't make it into yet another yardstick to measure how good you are or how well you're doing.
Here are three good ways to start. And remember, you don't have to FEEL these. Just imagine, and, research says, over time you'll actually reshape your brain to work in these ways. One day you'll notice you'll actually mean it.
1. Find a pet name for yourself that opens your heart. It could be a name someone said lovingly to you as a child (emphasis on the "lovingly"), a name you call a child or pet, or something you make up. Call yourself this when you're harried and overwhelmed, or you've stubbed your toe, or have just made a fool of yourself to your boss. Pretend, if need be, that you're talking to yourself with the same kindness you'd talk to your beloved.
2. Imagine offering yourself the same open-hearted care that you'd offer someone you deeply cherish (including pets). Remember the mantra from a while back, "what would Jesus do?" When you're feeling awful, ask yourself what you'd say to, or do for, your beloved if they were in the same place. Then do it.
3. If #2 feels too much (and it will for many of you; I was there myself), then tuck into your heart the same question Sharon asked me: "What would it be like to offer myself kindness and compassion right now?" Don't worry about knowing the answer. This isn't a test. Trust me: just the asking of it begins to change things.
If you're ready for something completely different, try it. You'll like it.
And don't thank me. Thank Sharon. We're all part of a noble lineage of courageous and heartful women helping each other.
Comments