I used to think that the idea of self-compassion didn't really apply to me. I didn't bite myself. I didn't cut myself. That's being nice, right? But then, I looked a little deeper and paid attention a little longer. Despite the natural inclination to want to do things right or even righter, I have developed an automatic red light at "best", "number 1", "top" and all things "...est" as in "best" and "fastest" and "smartest."
Maybe it comes from having to grade performances and papers and ideas and projects. Maybe it comes from working with statistical analysis and spreadsheets and numbers.
In reading the next part of the "Aware" book by Siegel, I find this:
Since you have been invited to be kind to yourself as your mind becomes distracted, you've already been practicing a way of being gentle with your experience, being open to the inevitable distractions that pull your attention away from its intended focus and having an inner sense of compassion.
Siegel, Daniel J.. Aware (p. 78). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I have read that a common reason that people don't develop a helpful meditation practice is that they quit. They quit because they find their minds taking a life of their own and they find it difficult to concentrate on something. They tend to forget the part about the mind being constructed to offer thoughts. They don't appreciate the Golden Moment, that moment when they notice the mind has wandered, the Moment when they can train their mind by bringing attention back to their target, their point of focus or their breathing.
Brene Brown is the queen of self-compassion but I also like the work of Christopher Germer. The basic point is to have some respect for one's self. My treatment of me should be as polite, respectful and restrained as it is of my friends. I wouldn't cuss a friend without very, very good reason. Before I fly off the handle, it is smart to go slow. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe some word or deed or gesture has inadvertently taken me back to that time in junior high when I got into a fight. A little respect for my reactions, a bit of a pause before I label myself inferior or lazy or stupid or clumsy can avert deepening my conviction that I just don't measure up, that I don't have the right stuff.
If you tell me that your dad doesn't have the right stuff and never did, all sorts of analytic tools come rolling out of their cabinets. Knowing that you probably aren't in the mood to watch me use them all, I will be tolerant of your feelings and just say,"Maybe." When the two of us, the irritated and the observer are both inside my head, it is an equally good move to be tolerant of feelings but slow to label or give a low performance rating.
