Working on compassion

Kindness and patience are a muscle memory

I have a digital journal where I write about compassion. The reason for this is because many years ago I began to question whether I understood what the word compassion meant.

I had heard it used many times in the course of my spiritual experiences and in yoga, and in therapeutic settings.

But sometimes when I started to question myself: what does compassion look like in my daily life? I understood sympathy and empathy, but I struggled to come up with a comprehensive and practical understanding of what compassion looked like in my life.

Does this seem odd?

I suppose I did think it was odd. I *felt* like I knew what it was and that I should know what it was. I believe I am a semi-evolved human. But for some reason, I couldn’t comprehend what this concept was exactly.

So I decided to challenge myself to study it, to write about it. and to look for it in my daily life.

The first place that that study took me was to the question of what self-compassion was — how it was different or similar to self-esteem or self-worth, for example.

One of the refrains of my upbringing came primarily from my mom. I think she felt no matter what each of us achieved that was good / fine / worth approval, there is, was and always would be another mountain or hill to climb just around the corner. That’s life right? You can’t waste too much time patting yourself on the back!

A back and forth might go like this:

“Mom, I got an A on my math test!"

“That great, Beth, but did you finish your English paper yet?”

Sigh.

No parent is perfect, and certainly my parents came from the generation before therapy and self-reflection. They wanted what was best for us and they certainly pushed us in their own way to work hard to achieve and succeed.

I myself take self-reflection seriously, however. Maybe I reflect too much? On occasion it stops me in my tracks with too many questions or concerns or worries.

And I have struggled outgrowing the pattern of “that’s great but” mindset. I think I am realizing that I lack the muscle of self-compassion.

I have several prompts that help me to write about compassion in my Day One Journal.

One is this:

There are a number of different steps you can take to show compassion to others:

• Speak with kindness

• Apologize when you've made a mistake

• Listen carefully and without judgment

• Encourage other people

• Offer to help someone with a task

• Be happy for someone else's success

• Accept people for who they are

• Forgive people for making mistakes

• Show respect

• Express gratitude and appreciation

• Be patient

I believe that one of the single most difficult tasks in achieving self-compassion, for me, is to speak with kindness to myself, about myself, and to be patient.

Fail again. Fail better.

In April I had the plan to write 30 poems in 30 days, something I have done before and have had no issue completing. However, after a few days, I found I could not write one more poetic word. I would try to write something and a jumble and mess came out. The idea of posting something awful, day after day, had me frozen in my tracks.

I had many thoughts and criticisms towards myself in the last few weeks. I often refer to myself as a failure, though that is something I am trying to do less of. I am not, by nature, a patient person. But I can choose to be patient, with others or myself. I have been trying to do that, even though often I act or speak before I have had the chance to make that choice.

Kindness and patience are a muscle memory. It’s seems like it should be nice and easy, but I think, sometimes and for some people, it isn’t.

I may write again about my journey with understanding compassion.

And I hope to write more poetry soon.

XO

Zed/Beth/Elizabeth/Lizzy-Ho