Tag Archive for: self-compassion

I was listening to a story on NPR the other day about
wildfires in the Pacific Northwest and one person who was being interviewed was
part of what they call a “mop-up” crew. These are the people who come in after
the fire is out and look for dead wood that might fall, trench areas that need
it, and look for parts that still might be smoldering.  In large forests, it’s fairly common for roots to be on fire quietly beneath the forest floor and spontaneously
erupt into new fires if the area isn’t checked thoroughly. It is these folks’ job to be hyper vigilant, to scan the terrain for danger. 
I feel like that’s my nervous system in a nutshell. The
original traumas were the raging wildfires that I worked to control and
extinguish, but there are still hotspots in places I haven’t looked and when
someone says or does something that triggers my original abandonment issues, I
am suddenly right back in the middle of that forest with a raging flare-up. Hello, PTSD. 
Despite all the work I’ve done in therapy and on my own,
learning to uncover my deepest insecurities and face them, sitting patiently
with my demons and learning to embrace them, combating the mean voice in my
head that says I’m worthless, there are still pockets of mess that I am occasionally
surprised to find. Somehow, I thought I took care of this, but there was one more tree with
smoldering roots just waiting for some oxygen to feed it. And oxygen feels like such a benign thing, right? Who is afraid of oxygen? Often, it is
as much a surprise to me as it is to the person who said or did whatever they
did, and as much as I’d like to be able to apologize for my massive response,
the fact remains that now I have a new
fucking fire to put out
. I wish I had the time to explain or assure you that it’s all going to be fine, but I don’t. I have to put on my helmet and boots and fireproof jacket and wade in because ignoring these small flares isn’t an option. 

There’s no way I have the time or resources to
send out a mop up crew to look for every possible spot that might flare up some
day. The most I can do is clear out the old dead undergrowth, set boundaries to
help me feel safe, and look those damn flames in the eye when they rise up. The
good news is that because I did the hard work to put out the original fires, it doesn’t take as much time or effort to quiet these smaller ones, and as long as I am completely honest and upfront with people about feeling triggered, I have done my part. 
Honestly, most of the time I go through life just admiring this forest of mine – wandering through its lush greenery and feeling blessed at the variety of things that grow there. I am so grateful to have come through those fires of my youth and be where I am today, and frankly, happy that I am in such a good place that I do get surprised when a flare-up happens. [That doesn’t mean that I’m not annoyed as hell when it does. My inner monologue goes a little like this: Really? What the hell? Didn’t we deal with this already? Who is the one in there that keeps flipping the switch? I told you, we’re not in danger anymore. This is different.]
But these days, I can quickly move from frustration to compassion. Obviously, there’s someone in there who is still afraid, who remembers all too well what it meant to be engulfed in flames, and she is hollering for help. And that’s when I go into mop up mode. 

Once again, I have been asked by BlogHer staff to answer a couple of questions about finding balance and happiness in life. The inquiry this go-around was:


How do you put yourself first? How does taking time for yourself help make you happier?

Wow. Tough question. As a mother of small children whose husband traveled nearly every week, I didn’t used to think putting myself first was even an option. It wasn’t until I literally began losing my sense of self and hit a crisis point that I realized I hadn’t even put myself on the list, much less anywhere near the top.

As girls and then women, so many of us were steeped in the tradition of caring for others above all else. We have a biological disadvantage that further complicates the matter, because our brains actually give us a shot of oxytocin (a hormone that reduces anxiety and promotes connection between us and others) when we empathize or take care of someone or something else. We literally feel better when we are nurturing something other than ourselves. Great for promoting motherly love and bonding. Not so much for promoting self-care.

It took a lot of therapy and some really vocal people in my life to convince me that taking care of myself was actually a way to continue to take care of other people better. If I’m a broken-down shell of a human, I’m not much use to my kids or my husband or that cause I so fervently believe in. If I am so depressed I can’t manage to get out of bed in the morning, I’m not doing anybody any good.

Ultimately, though, the most important, most penetrating message I received was from someone who pointed out that I am raising daughters. Daughters who are watching me wear myself out in the unending pursuit of caring for everyone else around me – anticipating and meeting their needs and smoothing out wrinkles wherever I go. Daughters who are learning by osmosis, like little tea bags absorbing all of my “I will take care of everyone else before myself” liquid, that this is the highest, best use of one’s self. Especially if you are a mom. Is that what I want for my girls? To grow up and be of service to everyone else at their own expense?

HOLD
THE
PHONE

No, it’s not what I want. And so when I put my own little girl self in their place and ask what I want for her, it is that she feel loved. Honored. Free to follow her dreams. Comfortable in her own skin.

It took months, but I made it a point to sit down for at least five minutes every day and ask myself what I wanted. What would make me happy? And what could I do toward that today? What small step could I take both for myself and in an effort to be an example for my girls that I am important, too? That my needs are just as vital as anyone else’s.

Over the years I have gone back to writing, making sure to take time every day to ignore paperwork, housework, the whining of the dog, and just write. Because that is one thing that makes me happy. I have also made my health a priority, getting together with a friend at least once a week to walk or take a yoga class and taking cooking classes at the local organic food co-op. More than anything, though, I have given myself permission to have fun. No longer do I watch my children with envy as they scale the jungle gym or sprawl out in a fort they made and stocked with books and snacks. Just as I make sure they have time to play every day in addition to the practices and schoolwork and chores they do, I give myself the same consideration. Some days that means hiding in the corner with my iPad playing solitaire or reading. Other days I crank up the music and dance through the kitchen or get out the fingerpaints and make a mess.

What I have learned is that I am the only person who can choose to make me happy. And while nurturing my growing family and caring for others gives me a great deal of satisfaction, affirming that I am one of the most important people I know and nurturing myself is just as pleasurable. The more self-worth I have, the better others treat me and taking time out to honor myself and all my hard work lets my girls know they can do the same for themselves.

As before, you can click on this link to enter the sweepstakes and win a Kindle Fire.
You can also read BlogHer’s expert’s answer to the question.

Crepuscular raus in GGP 8
I love it when I can find new places to explore on the Internet. It’s not nearly as productive as exploring in the nature or, say, doing laundry, but at least these two places are just as important. The first came to me from a friend who has children with sensory processing issues (as does Lola). If you haven’t already found it, this is a terrific resource and they have vast stores of information in their back issues.

SI Focus is an online magazine that has articles pertaining to all different kinds of issues for kids and adults who struggle with sensory integration issues. The subscription is fairly inexpensive ($25/year), and you can get a group subscription for several families together to make it even more affordable. I found myself glued to the computer while reading the first issue and am tremendously grateful to my friend Isabelle for passing along the information.

The other link I found through a group on Facebook called “40 Days of Mindfulness.” I joined them in their efforts to have each member meditate for 20 minutes a day for forty days beginning April 1. Twenty minutes indulging myself seemed pretty doable, although I will admit that, only eight days in, it has been as much of a struggle to keep my mind still as a boon, but I’m committed. After all, there are all these people I have to be accountable to! My friend Emily found herself fighting to keep from scolding herself for not living up to the 20 minutes a day and went on a hunt for a meditation around self-acceptance. Viola! She found this article. The article led me to the self-compassion website. At first glance, it appears to be a marketing tool for the author’s books, but I would encourage you to check out the information on the right side of the screen. There is a quiz you can take to see just how self-compassionate you are and exercises to download to increase your own acceptance of yourself. It may sound a little woo-woo, but I truly believe we all could use a little more appreciation for ourselves and I’m intrigued by the research being done. I highly recommend both the Huffington Post article and the site itself.