Being Gentle

 

To be gentle with ourselves is one of the greatest gifts we can give to the world. When we treat ourselves gently -- in our touch, in our movements, in our words, in our responses to ourselves -- we hold ourselves with the kind of reverence that acknowledges just how beautiful this life is. The added grace of it is that it radiates out to others. It just does. It comes out in our faces, in the tone of our voice, in the way we move, in our responses and interactions.

But, what does being gentle with ourselves really look like? If something in our life feels unmanageable or stuck -- in a relationship, with work, kids, finances, or something else, the last thing we may feel is gentle and that's okay. We simply start training in it. Be in it for the long haul. It takes repeated practice, but we can strengthen our self-kindness muscles and the work is well worth it.

Start simply. Take a moment to think through the ways you already are gentle with yourself. There are likely small things you do or ways you are with yourself that have this quality of care. In naming them, we deepen their effect and open the door to more ways of bringing it in.

I thought through some of what I do these days as examples to show that they aren't big, but still impactful:

~ At night when I wash up before sleep, I pull my hair back in clips off my face and I see myself in the mirror and pause there. I see my eyes and my skin, the roots of my gray coming in, the lines of age and of a life fully lived and I smile recognizing the beauty and vulnerability that is looking back at me. This is when I feel the most tender with myself.

~ In those moments when I feel I did not do well or my critic takes hold of whatever fault I may have displayed, (maybe I responded to my son or daughter in a way I regret or an approach I used in a situation didn't create connection), I recognize the pain of feeling "less than" and rather than jump on the bandwagon of shame, I feel compassion for the pain in me instead. I am going to mess up again and again. It is a part of living and it's always hard. I don't need to make it worse. Instead I say in compassionate recognition, "yes, this is hard to feel; that much is true." I don't fix it, back it up it, push it away, but allow myself to feel it and remind myself that it doesn't define me, nor will it stay.

~ I note to myself those moments when I can move slowly, or use a lighter physical touch with myself, or with an object (even the keys on this keyboard as I type), something in me shifts. I don't have to use so much force or try so hard. I feel the smoothness of the spoon in my hand, the feel of this fabric on my body, the tenderness of my own hand or someone else's. I feel more present, more conscious, more graceful and more grateful.

I'm not always gentle -- far from it. Just ask my partner and my kids. I tackle them often. They'll tell you how rough I am. But I keep practicing and right now it is one of my priorities - to be more gentle with this precious life. If it feels like something you would like more of for yourself, what might you try this week? Just one practice is enough to start the garden. It will naturally grow over time as we pay attention. Feel free to write to me and let me know.

🌻
Jean

Keep It Close

Through the month of July I felt rising excitement and inspiration alive in me. We were vaccinated, unmasked, and back together! The transformation of my A Mindful Life Studio was falling into place and I was energized to be planning the fall groups and workshops. At the same time, I was taking a 5-week course and learning new tools. I was busy, sometimes too busy, but mostly, I was excited. And then, just before we left for a week's vacation, the news started shifting to the upswing in Covid-19 cases, the threatening Delta variant, and "breakthrough" cases appearing. Something started shifting in me. I watched as my excitement turned to doubt. My plans felt threatened and my mind started churning over and over what might happen and what might be needed. It was as if an ocean wave crashed over a joyful bonfire.  

I had to coach myself through this new feeling. As I did, it became clear that my excitement and inspiration were not gone. They just got separated from me temporarily. I realize that in these time of greater uncertainty and change, I need to hold what excites me, what inspires me, and what I want to create, very close to me. It's not grasping, but taking care of the gem that is there by keeping it near to preserve its integrity because it is pure and it calls for that. The external conditions may be changing again and I may need to adapt, but I can stay true to what inspires me. This is so vital because what inspires us breathes life into us.

My invitation this week is to call up what makes you excited, alive, inspired and when you feel the drag of external conditions, or bumps in the road, starting to pull you away, pause, and call up again what originally made you light up. What created those sparks and opened possibility? Let it fill you again. Don't lose sight of what you are creating, even if the form has to shift. Hold close to you the source of your inspiration, aliveness, energy.

I'm also keeping in mind what is good. What is good is that we can still be together. We may need to mask up again to do the right thing, but that's no thing to sweat. While I was away enjoying the mountains and lakes of Mount Desert Island for a week (another thing that was so good), my studio was freshly painted. With trepidation, I opened the door on Sunday to see if what I had envisioned manifested. I walked into brightness (see pictures below). What's happening around me might be shifting in ways I wish it wasn't, but I am going forward toward the light and it sure does feel good. So much is good. I wish you all the ability to stay aligned with your vision, with what you are creating, and know that when you get separated from it (which happens), you can get back.

I am happy to be back, in all ways. Have a great August week.

🌻
Jean