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It’s been a long day for me. A long few years, really. This parenting gig is more of a challenge than I ever imagined it would be. And when sleep is getting chopped up by it and by my sense of calling to and love for the work I’m doing here, it only gets harder. I find myself ashamed and disappointed, on one level, by how exhausted and sparkle-less I often feel, and by the ways this effects my cushion for dealing compassionately and humorfully with normal 3 and 5-year-old behavior.
All that to say, I’ve been planning to write up a ritual tonight that focuses on loving our bodies more, as shame around our physical selves is such a deep shadow around our ability to love ourselves and others well. But I think I need to expand this ritual to include other aspects of our beings, too, including the parts of us that are exhausted and beaten down and wishing we could somehow “rise above” more often than we do.
So here goes:
Picture a part of yourself that you find hard to love. Maybe it’s your skin, your breasts, your cellulite, your wrinkles. Maybe you’ve never liked your hair or the shape of your ears or the size of your belly or thighs. Maybe it’s every fat cell on your body, or a cancer you want to survive.
And maybe, like the paragraphs earlier describe, it’s a quality that’s been with you for some time: the way you get cranky on too little sleep, or depressed, or nihilistic. Your tendency to fear a certain thing. Or everything. Your biting sarcasm. Your self that rages at people that you love, or withdraws from them, or shuts completely down when connection and closeness are what you want most of all.
Whatever it is, imagine that part of yourself as somehow floating a distance away from yourself. You might need to personify it to make this work, so maybe you picture your exhausted, cranky self that has a hard time going to bed early even when she knows she needs to (a-hem) as an actual character, complete with crazy hair, baggy eyes, and an unbecoming expression. Maybe you picture your own thighs this way. Or your nose, or that mole on your forehead.
If personifying doesn’t feel right to you, you could imagine that part of yourself symbolically as a colored ball.
Okay, so you’re picturing this part of yourself that’s hard for you to love floating some distance from your body.
Now imagine that part of yourself completely surrounded by love. Don’t worry – you don’t have to be the one extending the love; that very thing is what’s so hard, right? Just imagine that part of you being surrounded by the purest sort of love you can dream up.
Maybe you can even imagine a love so pure that there isn’t any judgment in it whatsoever. There’s no edge of sternness at what you’ve done or not done to get this part of you this way. There’s no assumption that this part of you should have been different or otherwise or nonexistent. There’s no vicarious shame at how ghastly or unappealing this part of you is or expectation that you repay any of its kindness.
All there is is complete acceptance, warmth, and compassion.
Imagine this love like a warm cloud around the part of you you find so hard to love. Picture this cloud whatever color feels most safe and love-like to you. And imagine your unlovable part softening and leaning into this embrace – smiling or actually crying at how good it feels to be loved, how odd and unexpected and unasked for.
Now. Whenever you feel critical of or impatient with or downright nasty toward this part of yourself, take the pressure off yourself completely to love it at all. Don’t even try.
Just go back to your image of it being held by a love that you’re not personally generating – a love you’re only imagining is there at all.
And go back to that image.
And go back to that image.
And go back to that image.
And go back to that image.
Whenever you’re damning or wishing that part of you away, go back to that image.
I’d love to hear what happens if you do.
Everything Belongs
Seasons are universal. Treat yours uniquely.
What a wonderful idea… It’s hard to hate something that is wrapped in love.
Thank you…
Comment by Christa — February 9, 2011 @ 5:13 amThanks for this. I agree with Christa that something wrapped in love is hard to hate. I’ve been struggling with my body ever since I had my daughter (and she’s 9!). I had a C-section and have this flabby belly that won’t go back to normal and I’ve been on steroids ever since I’ve had her (for lupus) and I’ve never gotten even close to my pre-pregnancy body. It is hard to go through some days when you just feel yucky. I’m going to try your advice, Kristin, and work toward finding love for myself through your above visualization/meditation.
Comment by Jill — February 9, 2011 @ 6:44 amThank you so much for this! I have been working with my habit of eating chocolate when I am stressed (which as you know can happen with a 5 year old and 2 year old …) and this is going to be hung up in my kitchen! Thank you for sharing this compassionate ritual.
Much love,
Comment by pamela — February 9, 2011 @ 1:23 pmPamela
Christa and Jill, yes – that’s the strangest thing about this for me: I don’t even have to feel love for that part of me, but just visualizing it wrapped up in love makes me feel respect for it, like “who am I to hate this thing if it’s loved?”
Jill, the loss of a pre-pregnancy body. Yes. And to add on top of that lupus: I admire the positivity that you *do* have.
Pamela, the chocolate! I’m with you!! Is that habit the thing you’re having a hard time loving?
Comment by Kristin — February 9, 2011 @ 3:48 pm[...] about trusting in the present moment and in letting life unfold without tugging so much at it. When I asked Mimi what to do with the fact that all I think of on my meditation cushion is all I [...]
Pingback by Bravery « Walking on My Hands — February 9, 2011 @ 9:36 pmThank you for this. It was just what I needed.
Comment by Erica — February 10, 2011 @ 11:52 amlove this, kristin! i can totally relate to “the parts of us that are exhausted and beaten down and wishing we could somehow “rise above” more often than we do.”
i’m working on stepping back and trying to lighten my normal approach of inner-critic shaming. saying, hello love… of course you’re feeling exhausted and overwhelmed and lonely and cranky. can that be okay? can you love that part of yourself instead of hate it? when i notice that my inner-critic is hating on my inner-goddess, i try to have a nice convo with it. thanks for caring, but this isn’t going so well. you’re not actually helping. can we try again? (and then i talk to myself for however long is needed in order to pull through with respect).
love the image of being held in love. truly truly golden.
kristin–you’re beautiful. every part of you. it sucks feeling sucky. yup. and it’s totally allowed. and it’s totally lovable. because if you feel sucky, that gives me permission to feel sucky. and life is too grand to only contain non-sucky feelings. you know this, i know.
thanks for being you.
xo,
Comment by rachael maddox — February 11, 2011 @ 6:31 pmrachael
Erica, I’m so glad.
And Rachael, thank you for all of your words. Love hearing about others’ process with these feelings. Thank *you* for being you, too. :)
Comment by Kristin — February 11, 2011 @ 7:06 pmI’m so glad I found you through Mondo Beyondo! I’d like to use this ritual as a guided meditation in a leadership retreat with my congregation. We’re meant to lead from the heart, to love God, love neighbor, love self. And thanks for the a-hem…I needed that.
Comment by Cynthia — February 12, 2011 @ 7:50 amWhat a delight to find your blog! I love the sketch for this post, and just reading your meditation is sustaining. There’s such a wonderful sense of compassion in it…and how can we show compassion to others if we don’t experience it ourselves? Thank you.
Comment by Susan — February 17, 2011 @ 6:20 pm