Compassion for ourselves

I taught a meditation workshop yesterday afternoon that was lovely and peaceful and very illuminating. I do not consider myself a meditation expert, but really enjoy introducing people to the concept of meditation and especially compassion focused meditation.

As we practiced, the theme of compassion emerged. This in the first yama of the eight-limbed path of yoga and is called Ahimsa in sanskrit. One student provided the best opportunity to demonstrate the practice of Ahimsa.

We were practice a metta blessing of loving-kindness toward ourselves. When we finished, she shared that she often struggles in life with giving too much of herself to others. During the meditation she found herself thinking of others when she was intending to focus on compassion for herself. Then, she was critical of herself for this. I so appreciate her honesty.

This is exactly what most of us do in meditation and in life. And this is the perfect moment to then practice compassion for ourselves. Recognizing that this is a pattern of thinking we have engaged in for many, many years and that we practice compassion by gently recognizing that we have strayed in our focus and returning to our intention. That is the practice and we offer ourselves opportunities everyday to recognize those moments and practice Ahimsa.

I see this harsh evaluation of missteps in myself and in my children. As a parent I try to model compassionate responses as often as I can, but definitely struggle when I'm having a difficult day. On those days I easily get caught up in the negative thoughts streaming through my mind and struggle to let go and refocus on compassion, for myself and them. The judgment creates barriers and walls between me and my children (or anyone else I am upset with), whereas compassion creates connections and understanding.

Image how the world can be different if we all work toward being more compassionate toward ourselves first, filling our own bucket, and then we can truly share that compassion with others, filling theirs. That positive energy can make such a difference in the world.

How often do you focus on cultivating compassion for yourself?

Getting stuck

Last week a friend posted a comment that she was having one of those days where she was seeing more of what she didn't have than what she did have. We all have those moments, days, or weeks where we get stuck and cannot seem to get unstuck. It seemed a simple, honest statement at the time, but it blossomed into a powerful teaching tool about perspective and attitude.

That evening one of my sons began lamenting about not getting the brownie he wanted and was nearly inconsolable with the unfairness of it all as he went to bed. The other was frustrated with a situation that wasn't going right for him at school. My friend's comment popped into my head and sparked an attitude adjustment for us all. I talked with them about having a choice to focus on what they didn't get and what went wrong or to put their attention on all the opportunities and things they did have and that had gone right. As we listed off the many positives in their day, the negatives began to seem quite small and insignificant. When offered that seemingly simple choice, both were able to move on and let go of the drama of the moment. Getting unstuck.

I so appreciate that my friend shared her struggle that day. Without her honesty I would not have had the inspiration to teach that concept to my sons. It is not easy to admit when we are struggling or stuck. I find when I do, others are there to support me and find a connection with their own struggles. Admitting frailty and failure, while difficult, helps me to be more compassionate and gentle with myself and others, and to remember to embrace all that I do have.

The allure of whipped cream

The pies of Thanksgiving always have me thinking about whipped cream. Yum! The whipped cream also reminds me of two great stories.

A few weeks ago my oldest son had a cold. To decrease the mucus with the cold I usually eliminate dairy from his diet for a few days. Unfortunately, the day he got sick, Dad came home with pie, ice cream, and whipped cream. He had pie, but not the toppings and was none to happy with Mama about that. I promised him I would let him have a bowl full of both ice cream and whipped cream for a treat when he was feeling better, but apparently he wasn't quite convinced I would follow through.

A couple of days later I was coming down the stairs and he came scurrying toward me from the kitchen and gave me a big hug. I didn't think too much about it, but a couple a minutes later he came back to me and told me he had to confess. Unbeknownst to me, he had been sneaking whipped cream from the container in the refrigerator when I came down the stairs. He said he didn't think I would really let him have some when he was better, so he had been sneaking big scoops of it with his hands.
He was really worried I'd be mad at him. Instead I surprised him by laughing and hugging him, then sharing with him my own story of succumbing to the allure of whipped cream.

As a little girl I had the good fortune to spend a great deal of time with my Grandma. Much of that time was also spent with my dear cousin GB. Every afternoon Grandma would take a nap for an hour or two and GB and I were supposed to rest, watch TV, or play quietly. Being curious girls we frequently found ourselves up to our eyeballs in trouble instead. Grandma had a variety of items around the house that we found quite irresistible and would frequently sneak while she was napping. The most infamous was the Cool Whip in the freezer.

GB and I loved Cool Whip and Grandma always kept a few containers in the freezer for family dinners. Once we discovered this, we made it a habit to slip into the freezer, open a container, and scrap a spoon or our fingers across the top for a little taste. We would smooth the top evenly and one time left the thinnest layer possible in the bottom of the bowl to make sure we hadn't eaten the whole thing. Somehow we fooled ourselves into believing Grandma wouldn't notice. Well, she definitely noticed!

As adults when the pies and the whipped cream came out at Thanksgiving, Grandma would tell the story of going to the freezer to get the Cool Whip and discovering the all but empty container. We tried to defend ourselves, but usually ended up laughing and confessing countless other ridiculous things we'd done while Grandma was napping. The afternoons with GB and Grandma telling that story are some of my favorite memories.

After hearing this story, my son was relieved that he was not the only one to feel the allure of whipped cream and excited that I had shared the story with him.  It was a wonderful moment of connection for the two of us. I was so proud of him for being honest with me and relieved that I had been able to handle the situation with grace and humor.

I love these moments of confident parenting when it all seems to come together. They make the frequent times of struggle much more bearable and remind me that I can be the parent I want to be, but I don't have to be perfect (and neither do my kids).

A nostalgic heart

Being one of those people to whom nostalgia comes easily, I frequently struggle with not clinging to the past. The practice of Aparigraha allows me to raise my awareness of this and to work toward being present each moment here and now. Holidays seem especially challenging for me in this practice.

As I reflect this Thanksgiving morning on all the blessings of my life, my heart is both full and saddened. I have so much for which to be thankful and yet part of me longs for those Thanksgivings of old. So many precious memories of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, foods, afternoon naps, football games, loud rounds of cards, and most of all laughter and joy. Nothing was every perfect, but it is so sweet to soften those edges of memory by letting go of the imperfections.

And as I write, the big ah-ha moment comes...the non-clinging, aparigraha, has to do with both the good and the bad. I so often think of it only as clinging to what I want, forgetting that forgiveness and letting go of difficult times is a vital part of the practice. By not holding on to the hurt, we allow old wounds heal making room in our heart for more love and kindness.

I see this same nostalgic heart in both of my boys. It surfaces as they struggle to give away old books or toys they no longer use, pictures they drew, crafts they made, or even sticks and rocks they found on hike one day. The memories of the day and the people to whom they connect those objects create such strong attachments for them. They often feel as though they will lose that memory and connection if they no longer have the object. As I look at the objects around our house that were my grandmothers or my moms, I'm thinking it must be in our genes.

Today I am missing my grandma and the home her heart provided me.  I feel myself holding on, clinging to the desire to have it all like it was before. But as I listen to my sons chatting, watch them enjoy the Thanksgiving Day parade that my grandfather loved, smell the foods of the day beginning to simmer, I realize that like every Thanksgiving, this one too will be its own special day. It will have memories and experiences we will talk about for years to come. I just don't know yet what they'll be.

I continue to strive to be present for each moment, honoring the old memories while creating new ones. Living the practice and modeling that for my sons.

Having enough

I just read a blog by Anne at About Freelance Writing about sufficiency. Living with what we have and recognizing that what we have is enough. It is a powerful reminder for all of us. In yogic philosophy we call this practice Aparigraha.

I have been contemplating this practice a good deal over the past few weeks. Wondering if we are teaching our children what we really want them to learn in relation to having enough. We talk about it, but do we practice it?

As we approach the holiday season we are bombarded by catalogs full of fabulous treats and toys we all would enjoy but most likely don't need. Typically, the boys pour over them creating huge lists of things they want. They become overwhelmed and aparigraha is the farthest thing from their minds. This year I've taken to tossing the catalogs into recycling before they can even take a peek. It has taken the focus off all that stuff and decreased the clutter around the house. It has helped all of us stay more grounded.

The next challenge is how to move into all the holiday celebrations and maintain this practice. Stay tuned to see how we do and feel free to share any of your ideas.

Spreading the joy

My sons are participating in a choir this fall for the first time. They have always loved to sing, so we thought we'd try this out.

Every week when they leave choir practice they are grinning from ear to ear and seem like they are walking on air. There is something transforming about singing for them. I noticed this from the beginning and have mentioned it frequently to friends and family. As I was emailing the choir director today, I realized I had not mentioned it to her.

So, I shared my observations and her response floored me. She replied, "Thanks for your wonderful email - made my day!"

I'm always surprised how much those little positive reinforcements make such a big difference.

Lessons from the Universe

I am known for telling other people that their illnesses are their bodies way of telling them to slow down, listen, or take a look inside. Being like most people, however, it is always easier to see these things from the outside than from the inside.

Last week I started getting sick. I kept going a bit, but did take a couple of days off of work. I thought I was getting better, so charged ahead again only to find myself worse off than I was before within a very short time. Still not quite getting it, I tried to keep up with my regular routine until the chills and fever sent me to bed...for hours.

Even though I know I should just stop, I continue to think I can do a little bit more than I am. Case in point, I'm sitting here at the computer writing when my body is telling me to take a nap before the boys get home from school.

Some lessons take longer than others to learn. The universe usually gives us lots of opportunities to practice the ones with which we are struggling. So, rather than continue on, I think I'll listen to the universe, my body, and my own advice and go take a nap. :)

What lessons does the universe keep sending your way?