Be kind. Everyone you meet is carrying a heavy burden. – Uncertain origins

and a related quote, from a book called Courtesy:

This man beside us also has a hard fight with an unfavouring world, with strong temptations, with doubts and fears, with wounds of the past which have skinned over, but which smart when they are touched. It is a fact, however surprising. And when this occurs to us we are moved to deal kindly with him, to bid him be of good cheer, to let him understand that we are also fighting a battle; we are bound not to irritate him, nor press hardly upon him nor help his lower self.

Do you know the kinds of burdens that others carry?  Do you recognize the burdens that you carry?  Can you name your filters and judgments, the things that separate you from others and from experiencing the world?

To become acquainted with kindness one must be prepared to learn new things and feel new feelings. Kindness is more than a philosophy of the mind. It is a philosophy of the spirit. – Robert J. Furey

Through personal growth and emotional healing workshops, I’ve had the experience of listening to many people discuss their wounds, their struggles, and their shattered dreams. I’ve faced my own dark years, both alone and as a caregiver for another.  It’s given me a quiet seriousness about the hard times in life.  It has also given me perspective on the unseen lives of others I bump into throughout my days.

So what are the burdens people carry?

Burdens

Pain. Physical pain – illness, injury, back problems, sleep problems, dental problems, migraines, whole-body pain disorders. Nutritional deficiencies, hormonal and endocrine issues, mood variability, environmental sensitivities, high blood pressure, chronic illness.  Emotional pain – mental health issues, loss of attention due to sleep deprivation, depression, anxiety, rage, PTSD, memories and after-effects of abuse and trauma and fear.

Loss of loved ones, to illness or addictions or natural disasters or wars.  Loss of their own sense of self in unhealthy relationships or difficult situations.  Economic stress, impossible decisions of whether to buy food or medicine or pay rent – pick only one. Fear of losing a bad job because it still pays better than no job, or at least it provides health insurance. Impossible decisions on how to cope with unbearable pain when they have no health insurance. The struggle to keep anger and fear at bay when frustrations pile on with no end in sight.

Social isolation, loneliness. Private shame, guilt over words said or words unsaid, guilt over having physical and emotional needs. Uncertainty and dissociation about simply being embodied; physicality. Embarrassment around sexuality and emotional expressiveness, or particular experiences or past wounds around those. Frustration and uncertainty about how to help a loved one who is refusing all help. Obsessive refusal to give up hope for another person in spite of looming bad circumstances and impossible odds, mixed with guilt and self-doubt about whether that hope serves or is just selfish.

Difficulty determining how to relate to family or interact with elderly members when their behavior is not sane nor sensible. Or hearing others talk about their struggles with a living family member, when yours has died, leaving a gaping hole in your heart.

The effort to wear a mask of neutrality and be polite and effective at work in spite of pain and exhaustion and sadness/fear/anger/hopelessness. The effort to present a calm face to others to keep interactions comfortable and simple.  The daily struggle for someone in a disadvantaged minority, to hold themselves together publicly in spite of the pains of life, knowing they will be judged more harshly and unfairly if the mask cracks, and losing the job would destroy too many critical resources. And amidst it all, there are always too many things to get done in a day, too many demands, and not enough resources to go around.

Be kind. Everyone you meet is carrying a heavy burden.

Kindness

Take a breath. A little space, a little air; take another breath as it feels comfortable. Can you take a moment to notice, with gratitude, that you are alive and breathing?  Can you notice other things close to you, perhaps muscles you can move, or other senses, that you are also grateful for?  Can you feel the painful places gently opening for that gratitude?

Kindness is like that.  Kindness opens a space.

It can be deeply respectful to give someone the gift of your patience – especially when they haven’t “earned” it.  In most cases, you don’t know what’s actually going on with them; perhaps a toothache has made them short tempered, or their recent relationship hurt them, or they just lost their job. Perhaps the communities they’ve lived in have judged them harshly for their personality or desires, and they’re defensive or closed off as a result.  Your patience can potentially open a space for both of you.

When you respond to a hard situation with kindness instead of anger, you gain a pleasant memory instead of an unpleasant one to think about for the rest of the day.  You may reduce the escalation, or turn a sour moment into an opportunity. It may even help you remember to slow down and be aware of your impact and your day, which can lead you to noticing other blessings and useful moments.

You also open opportunities for the other person. Maybe they will notice that at least once, someone was kind instead of harsh, or yielded instead of cutting them off, and feel better about themselves or the world. Acts of compassion can be disarming, helping someone soften their brittle defensiveness and instead work through their feelings more effectively. Or perhaps it will simplify their day just by having one less confrontation to deal with.

When you are unkind in a community of people who know each other, gossip gets around. It takes weeks or months to earn a friend and only a day to lose one. The person you speak poorly about may be a friend of the person you’re talking to, or a friend of someone they share it with.   If you’re particularly public in your rants about someone, others you didn’t realize were watching will form opinions of you based on what you said about another.  And unless the topic is serious and important to share, you risk being seen as someone who judges and complains about others, and may not be trustworthy.

In contrast, if you are patient and speak with compassion, minimizing gossip and keeping legitimate complaints factual and undramatic, you will gain trust, friendships, and confidences.

Kindness and compassion don’t mean having a simplistic view of the world where nobody is ever an asshole.  There are plenty of people who are intentionally cruel, and discernment is still a necessary skill.  What kindness really means is a willingness to “look again,”  an opportunity  for correcting your misconceptions.  It is a willingness to pause judgment instead of jumping to conclusions. By giving that pause, you allow others to show more of their real selves, and you open space in your mind for a different kind of experience.

That opens many more doors.  Patience with others will create opportunities for friendships and professional networking, help others reveal more of their depths, and give you opportunities to encounter new ideas, learn, and grow.  It makes it easier to get along in communities, which opens further advantages over time.

Kindness and compassion aren’t just about the actions you see others take, or words they say, but also forgiveness for analytical failures, words that slip out wrong, uneducated or uncritical thinking, differing opinions and experiences, differing fears and risk evaluations. You can still make choices about who you would enjoy intentionally spending time with – but perhaps you could be a bit slower to judge someone as a person for just their beliefs that you consider mistaken. People change, circumstances change, and they may not be the same forever.

At a very fundamental level, “other people” are one of the most important resources we have. Few of us could survive, let alone thrive, if we had to build our own cabins, grow and store our own food, make our own jars to store the food in, mine the ore to build the heat pump and box to act as a refrigerator…. and so on. Sharing and trading resources and skills is what our civilizations are based on. And we are social creatures; we need our tribe, our community, our friends. Kindness smooths the interactions and eases a bit of others’ burdens as well as our own.

You must be the change you want to see in the world. – Gandhi

Live and work, but do not forget to play, to have fun in life and really enjoy it. 

- Eileen Caddy, The Dawn of Change

To be willing to play in the midst of difficult times can be a great blessing.   Even if you feel it necessary to keep a somber mood until it’s over, what next?  How long is enough grieving?  How much is enough sadness?

If you are struggling with grief, please understand that there is no right answer to “how much” to grieve.  It will happen in its own time, and differently for each person.  Don’t let others pressure you into shortening your process.  If you grow concerned that grief may have become depression, consider whether you might benefit from professional help.  It’s not disrespectful to eventually move on.

Sad times come.  Stress happens.  Life can be hard.  When life is a struggle from one day to the next, it can be hard to remember to take a break and just play – without feeling guilty.

From Wound to Play

I spent some time at a retreat center that was also a rescue for abused and abandoned dogs and puppies.  Many of the dogs came in timid, scared, and huddled in the back of their cages, afraid of any people or other dogs.  The staff were gentle and respectful with them, treating their medical problems, keeping them fed and clean, and slowly socializing them by touch and by reading books to them so they could hear friendly speech.

Their wounds healed, and then… a fascinating thing happened.  They got curious.  They began chasing butterflies, sniffing around the edges of their pens, and trying to push through the gate.  Sometimes they would nose around outside the pen, get spooked by a grasshopper, and race back inside where it was safe.  Each pup had its own style, but the end result was similar – curiosity.

Play. Exploration.  Hearing the call of life, the call of wild, to join in the natural world.

The opposite of anxiety is not bold action – it is curiosity.  It is willingness to engage in a situation without holding a prediction of the outcome.  “I wonder…”

Wonder, Awe, and Humor

Think of the three year old child who comes out on Christmas morning to a living room piled FULL of GIFTS!!! Sparkles! Ribbons and bows! Presents everywhere! The tree all lit up!! Candy and stockings too!!  WOW!!!

Awe holds a very special place in helping us remember how to play.  Play as an “adult” can be quieter, such as watching the sunrise paint colors on a mountain peak.  Or it could mean taking a camera out around town for a sunset over the shopping mall, experimenting to see just what photo variations are possible.  Play as an adult can also mean learning something new, trying out a new activity or improving skill in an existing talent – or reading or watching a really great story and losing yourself in the moment.

Awe and wonder take us out of ourselves.  They help us forget, for a little bit, about the limitations and struggles in our lives.  Often, they remind us of things much larger than our own lives – a view of the stars, the age of a mountain, the depth of the ocean, a sense of timelessness; an awareness that this moment is very small and soon won’t matter.

Curiosity plays with time from a different angle.  Curiosity forgets about the past and the future, and gets totally involved in the present moment.  In exploring something of interest outside, it helps with forgetting the self.

Humor reminds us that life can surprise us, that we don’t know everything, and thus that the things we worry about might not be totally predictable and controllable.  Laughter relieves tension and helps us both with other people and feel supported.

When I am sad, frustrated, feeling powerless, I tend to mentally narrow my options.  This won’t work, that won’t work, that’s useless, I can’t do that, I can’t be this or that.  It’s an endless parade of can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, and don’t.  Most of all, I forget that I can change.  I feel stuck.

Humor and curiosity help remind me to flow, to let myself adapt and change.  They remind me that whatever I’m currently dealing with, it isn’t my whole life and self.  They remind me to breathe.

From there, wonder and curiosity lead me into exploring new possibilities, some of which may shift my perspective on things I thought were permanently stuck.  They lead me out into the world, engaging with other people, engaging with new ideas, and realizing that I can be so much more than just my current circumstances.

Some of those new ideas might feel threatening, destabilizing, or just plain unfamiliar.  That’s okay.  I don’t have to adopt every new thing that comes my way, but I can stretch my comfort zone a little and try something that seems interesting, knowing I can simply stop if I don’t like it.

Play and the Stress Response

One of the valuable aspects of play comes in its effect on physical health.

When a person or animal gets stressed, it gets a fight-flight-or-freeze reaction, which comes from hormones in the body such as cortisol and adrenaline.  The body systems controlling that are largely instinctive; they come from a part of the brain that isn’t so good with reason, logic, and analytical thought.  The flip to that response is the relaxation response, which slows the release of adrenaline and cortisol, lets heart rate return to normal, and lets muscles relax and normal life resume.

Studies have been performed with farm animals, who feel stress when human caretakers show up to provide food and water and clean their stalls.  Their hormonal responses can be measured through saliva, and improvements in their experiences of living conditions translate into longer life and better results for the animals and the people.  So there has been significant motivation for meaningful research on stress responses.

One of the things they learned was that giving an audible cue for the beginning and end of the stressful period was very helpful.  The animals quickly learned what sounds meant that a person is coming (perhaps buckets and gates clanging with a dinner delivery) and their stress levels rose in response. If there was no clear signal of completion, stress levels remained high, sometimes for hours.

When the farmers then added an “all clear” sound, such as a bell, immediately as they left the barn, the animals learned that they could relax again and their stress levels dropped.  The bell became a trigger for a relaxation response.  In this way, the animals spent a few minutes stressed and nervous, but knew clearly when it was over and they could let go.

I experimented with this approach myself.  My house cats had health problems for a while that required daily administration of pills and syringe feeding.  This was understandably very stressful and scary for them.  For the first weeks we struggled and fought and scared each other, and I left the process exhausted and sad and stressed out myself.

Then I learned about those farm studies, and tried a very simple change to my routine: I said, “All done!” after I was finished administering treatments.

Within just a few days, my cats stopped sulking away and hiding under couches for hours, visibly relaxed to know that no more handling was coming any time soon.  In a few weeks, their stress periods shrunk from 3 hours down to about 5 minutes, with far happier cats and humans quickly resulting. The cats became much easier to handle, began to train easily on the new routine, and everything got easier.

I noticed an interesting side effect: When I told the cats that they were done, I also relaxed!!  It seemed my brain had also learned the cue and knew it was safe to stop worrying after that.

Humans do respond similarly to “stress is done now / you’re safe” cues.

We need safe zones.  One of the reasons that children who suffered abuse at home have trouble managing stress is that they often had no safe zone.  There was no location and no time of day when they could know for sure that they were safe and it was okay to drop their guard.  They were trapped in unsafe circumstances, and so were never able to truly rest.  As adults, they will have to make special arrangements to set up safe zones for themselves, where it becomes possible to learn to let go.

Like a bell marking the end of stress, play can also be a trigger for a relaxation response.

Getting curious or silly, or staring awestruck at a magnificent view of nature, are things that help us be less serious, less worried, and less tense.  They invite us to consider a broader life beyond our momentary stresses.  They invite us to let go.

We have to let go.  It’s critical for health.  Elevated cortisol (stress hormone) levels over a long period of time shorten lives and increase chronic illness.  It reduces creative thinking and problem solving, impairs reasoning, and causes depression and anxiety.  It can steal away quality of sleep and create insomnia and nightmares.

Too much stress robs us of the health resources we need to have the energy to make changes in our circumstances.

Where stress destroys, play restores.  Play encourages exercise, good blood and oxygen flow, and reduced tension.  It encourages creativity and clear thinking.

Play isn’t a guilty pleasure to avoid during times of seriousness and stress.  It’s a necessity to survival and thriving.

Remember those scared puppies, whose wounds healed and then they got curious and began exploring the world?  Once their fear faded a bit, life began to smell very curious and interesting.  The wild called them out, called them back to their true nature.

Will you let life call you out as well?

A new person I meet dresses and acts a lot like my friend from grade school, so I find myself assuming she will behave like that friend on new things too.  A social event involving lots of unfamiliar people reminds me of my discomfort at being an outcast in childhood, and so I get nervous before the party and consider not going.  A new lover reminds me of a bad ex, and I find myself unable to shake off that ghost of fear.

What’s going on there? And how can I change it?

Four Levels Model

We can look at experiences as if there are four levels of reality happening at once.

Four Levels. Click for bigger view.

1. Physical – The observable events; what a video camera would see.
2. Feelings/Sensations – How the body reacts, emotions, adrenaline, skin shivers, freezing up or relaxing at ease
3. Mythic Story/Explanation – A story in words about the meaning of what just happened. Interpretation.
4. Essential Beliefs – What we fundamentally believe about the world and ourselves after many experiences; safe vs unsafe, trust vs fear.

By examining my situation at each of these four levels, I can figure out:

• what is happening inside me,
• where I am making incorrect assumptions,
• which of my past experiences might be causing me to misunderstand the current one,
• how I can check in verbally with other people to clarify the situation,
• and how I can avoid similar reactions in the future.

This is a powerful way to change how I relate to life experiences, as it helps me change my inner responses, reduce misunderstandings and knee-jerk reactions, and avoid drama.  Let’s look at how the four levels apply to a fictional situation, and then how to use that understanding to change behaviors and reactions.

Examining What Happened

First, let’s look at this model as a way to break down an event that went badly. Here’s the scenario.

Judy is attending a photographers social and workshop, to support her friend Chelsey who is hosting it.  Although Judy is shy about meeting new people or drawing any attention to herself, she has decided that entering a photo in the talent slideshow is a good way to show support for the event and her good friend.

The slideshow starts, and Judy sees that the first several pictures are stunning, pro-quality work. Chelsey runs a critique session after each one, but most photos pass with few suggestions. Judy starts to feel nervous, wondering if her picture will measure up, and her body tightens.  Finally her picture shows up.  Immediately, three people speak up with significant suggestions; a different crop, ways to improve the color, comments about how to make the subject matter less boring, and a discussion about what they’d do differently if they were on the scene.

Judy is at a loss for what to say.  She sits in stony silence, waiting for Chelsey to move on to the next photo.  Finally discussion quiets and moves on, and Judy breathes a tiny sigh of relief.  When Chelsey asks her later what she thought of the feedback session, she mumbles, “It was fine,” and quickly changes the subject.  Although she is passionate about photography, she silently plans to stop attending the gatherings, and skips the following month’s event.

At the surface, this is a story about performance anxiety, criticism, feedback, and judgment.  It may be easy to see that Judy was feeling sensitive about comments on her work – but look deeper.

• Why is she sensitive?
• How might she have responded differently?
• Can she open up more to Chelsey about what’s really going on with her?
• Can she work on her fears in a way that would allow her to participate in, and perhaps even enjoy, the opportunity to work with other passionate photographers in the future?

Let’s apply the four-levels model to this situation.

Physical Reality

Here’s a description for “just the facts.”

Judy attended a photographers’ gathering and entered one of her photos in to the feedback slideshow.  Chelsey ran the feedback process.  Judy did not personally know most of the attendees.  The photos ahead of Judy’s in the show received few suggestions for improvement.  Judy’s photo received many suggestions for improvement and triggered lots of discussion.  Judy remained silent with her hands folded across her chest.  Chelsey later asked Judy about her experiences.  Judy said, “It was fine.”  Judy did not show up to the following month’s event.

Notice what isn’t in there – emotions and interpretations.  Although people often think they are looking at reality, we can miss this level by skipping ahead to emotions, interpretations, motivations, and meanings.  Sometimes it is valuable and necessary to revisit the physical level and sort out what really happened.

Practice: Think about a dramatic situation you were personally involved in recently. Write or describe it in “just the facts,” leaving out emotion and interpretation.

Emotional/Sensations

Here is a description for the emotional and sensation layer of Judy’s experience.  Since only Judy can know this for sure, it is written from her point of view.

I am so nervous to go to this event. My hands are sweating and my chest feels tense. I want to support Chelsey though. I’m excited about showing one of my pictures. My eyes feel more open and I smile when I think about that.  … Wow these other people’s pictures are gorgeous. I want to be able to do that. … Oh no, I’m almost on, and I’m so nervous that my picture isn’t as good! This is so embarrassing. I want to escape. Can they PLEASE move on now??

I’m so uncomfortable giving Chelsey feedback. I don’t want to embarrass her. But it’s embarrassing to explain my overreaction too. I want to escape.

Writing this, I found it hard to stay with just the emotions and not jump to Story/Interpretation.  Feelings aren’t continuous; they rise and fall from moment to moment in response to outside experiences and inner judgements, predictions, and fears. But, emotions are not the predictions and wild imaginings. Emotions are simpler: happy, sad, angry, afraid, and mixes of those four.

Emotions happen in the body. A small child who doesn’t get her way may clench her hands and make her body rigid, or tears may well up and her face turn red. The same reactions happen to us as adults, in response to strong emotions, but we’re culturally trained to try to ignore them or moderate them to socially appropriate levels.  But what we consciously avoid still happens in the body, if sometimes in more subtle ways.  To recognize emotion, tune in to how the body is reacting.

When I feel joy, I feel light, bouncy, and taller. When I feel sadness, I bend and slouch, cast my eyes down, and feel foggy or tired. When I feel shock, I experience a mental tunnel vision, a sense of numbness, and feel not quite solidly in my body. When I feel anger, I feel my throat clench, my pulse rate rise, and my arms twitch.

Practice:

Where in your body do you feel happiness, sadness, anger, fear?

How does your body move or stand differently during each of those?

Vividly imagine a scene that fits each one of those, and watch your body react. What do you notice?

Mythic Story / Explanations

Here’s Judy’s description of her internal story.  This is the way her mind explains her experiences, and makes them internal storytelling. These are the heroes, villains, triumphs and tragedies of her life story.

Going to an event full of strangers is scary, because I won’t be able to build friendships in only a few minutes. I want to go because supporting my friend makes me feel proud. People won’t come back for future visits if the group is too small. When I show up, I help the group size grow. I would enjoy hearing admiration for my photo work that I have spent so much time on.  Then I would could stop feeling guilty about spending my time on myself instead of other people.

Wow these photos are amazing. These photographers must all be professionals. They’re so much better than I am. Why would they want to help me with my skills when they’re so far beyond me? They must think I’m a joke being here and that my photo is a waste of their time. Oh no, now they’re jumping all over me with criticisms and things I should have done differently. There are so many things wrong that they just keep going on and on.  Will it ever end? I’m such a failure at this. They can see right through me; they know I’m not good enough to play in their league. I bet nobody will even want to talk to me after this. It’s no wonder I felt nervous about coming to the party. Obviously I knew I wasn’t good enough. I don’t belong here. I’d leave right now but Chelsey would think I was being rude, and that would be the death of our friendship. I’ll just sit silently and pray for this to end quickly.

Chelsey is only asking for my feedback to make herself feel good. If I give her honest feedback I’ll embarrass us both, and besides, she only wants a polite compliment. There’s no point in telling her I won’t be back; I’m sure the party worked just fine for everyone else, and it won’t matter for me because I’m not going to do that again anyway.

Whew.  Do you want out of Judy’s head?  I do! The Mythic layer often means drama, escalation, and spiraling up into intensity – imagining fear, death, destruction, catastrophe, loss and tragedy.

How can Judy de-escalate?  First, she needs to realize that she’s operating in the Mythic layer.  This means accepting that what she’s experiencing inside is largely the creation of her own mind – her story.  Next, she can choose to refocus on the lower layers – first, what she is experiencing in her body and emotions, and then, what is actually happening around her physically.  This focus can help her calm herself, and clear her head to analyze what’s actually real.

The Mythic Story / Explanation layer is all about interpretation, roles and archetypes, and repeating patterns.  Its key traits are that things feel bigger than life, personally important, and often involves roles. Sometimes they are the roles of hero and villain, sometimes of community and self, sometimes of rescuer and rescued. Roles help us understand how to act in society, but they can also limit our creativity about behavioral options.

Although she’s not thinking aloud about them, Judy has lots of past experiences of feeling bad about herself in social and professional settings.  Her interpretations of previous hurts are coloring her interpretations of today’s events.

Practice:

Revisit the situation you considered for “just the facts” physical layer. Now write or describe what happened in your Mythic Story, as if the people involved were actors in a drama.

What is the role that each person played?  Does the role have a name or archetype?

Essential Beliefs

Judy has had many experiences of showing up to a group of strangers and having trouble making conversation. When people look at her, she gets nervous and forgets what she wanted to say, so she tends to stay quiet. That leaves her out of conversations, which she interprets as social rejection. That makes her more nervous and shy, and more prone to freezing up.  One day, fed up with her fear and loneliness, she starts work with a counselor.

Her counselor suggests that Judy begin writing down her troubling moments using the Four Levels model.  At first, Judy practices writing the first three levels; physical, emotional/sensory, and mythic story. After several events are written down, Judy and her counselor take a look at the stories.

Judy notices that most of her stories carry an element of competition and social rejection, as well as a theme that she is never good enough.  Whatever events occur involving her, she seems to perceive neutral events as though they are confirmation that she is not good enough.

Her counselor asks her if she remembers the first times in her life that she felt that way. She recalls a number of instances from her distant past when she felt she had to fight to get her needs met, but in doing so, heard resentment or attacks from others. She remembers trying to find ways to get the attention and love she needed while remaining invisible, and that it was a hard balancing act. She realizes that her standard response to discomfort is to try to hide or escape, or sit silently resigned to ignoring her desires.

They write down the following words to describe the running themes in her stories, under a title “Current Essential Beliefs” : struggle/competition, scarcity, resentment, rejection, hiding.

Her counselor asks her to fill in the opposites for each of those.  Judy thinks slowly and adds: collaboration, abundance, support, inclusion, visibility.

With these points of contrast, Judy begins to see how her interpretation of events might be constrained by her essential beliefs about how her world works.  Her counselor sends her home with an assignment to consider what each of those beliefs means to her daily experiences.

Practice:

• If the world I live in is ruled by scarcity, then getting my needs met requires that I ___________________.
• If the world I live in is ruled by resentment, then to be safe I have to ________________.
• If I didn’t choose to hide when stressed, then I expect what would happen to me is ____________.

Opening a Door to a New Reality

Now that Judy has a way to describe her habitual reactions and interpretations, she has a choice about whether to continue responding in her standard ways, or try something different.

Four Levels. Click for bigger view.

There are two ways to look at the Four Levels model.  Moving up from the external physical level (1) towards the more internal story and essence levels (4), we can deconstruct an event to understand it better.  We can understand what essential beliefs are influencing our reactions.

Or, moving from the internal essential beliefs (4), down towards physical experiences (1), we have another option: intentionally choosing our reactions.

Choosing to change a story or role can open an door to a different emotion about the experience.  For example, what if Judy changed her story from “I’m wasting everyone’s time” to something else? What other stories might describe what’s happening?  What does it look like to change a story?

Perhaps the expert photographers have been bored with each other after months together, and they are enthusiastic to have participation from someone new, who they can enjoy teaching. Perhaps Judy’s photo was a picture of a rare event or inspiring location, and the others were stirred to share ideas of fun ways to get involved. Or perhaps they considered it their responsibility to offer expert feedback because they saw that Judy had an excellent eye but less developed technical mastery, or it was their way of supporting the event.

But how can Judy know that? She could ask them.

Changing the Story

Maybe she still needs some time to get herself calmed down first, but then she can check in with the people she’s concerned about. She can ask them for their opinions on why so many people jumped in with suggestions on her photo when the photos prior to hers got few comments. And then she can listen to their take on what happened. Perhaps different people will have different takes, as well. There could be many “right answers,” and each person may have unique reasons.

By re-examining the Mythic Story layer, and choosing to challenge her internal story, Judy sets in motion a cascade of results. She opens herself to a different emotional space. Since she is responding differently in her own mind and her emotions, she behaves differently. This changes her interactions with other people, her circumstances, and her outcome. Perhaps she would hear that they enjoy her participation.  She would experience inclusion and collaboration, and may decide that coming to photo events is fun and rewarding.

Judy would then have one data point, one event, that was a good memory and challenged her long-held beliefs about competition, resentment, and rejection. Perhaps just one experience isn’t enough, though, to change the rest of her life.

What else could she do?

Changing Essence Expectations

Judy could re-examine her essential beliefs about the world and herself. She could choose to act “as if” a different essential truth were real. For instance, Judy could decide that instead of predicting that others will always reject or resent her, she is going to act as if people want to talk with her and include her. While she’s still nervous about asking why others commented so much on her photos, she’s going to pretend that she is curious instead of nervous and ask anyway. And then, instead of interpreting their responses as polite duty, she’s going to try hard to believe what they have to say.

She is aware that she is challenging her long-held beliefs about the world and other people. This feels big, mythic even – and she can use that emotional intensity to give extra weight to the one new data point she’s getting. She can remember for the next few weeks that she’s trying to believe in inclusion instead of rejection.  With that intention, she can see how many other situations are also affected by competition, resentment, and rejection – or collaboration, support, and inclusion. Perhaps she can even use her new approach to redo her conversation with Chelsey, and find a better peace with that discussion.

Changing an essential belief can be hard. It can feel scary, deeply unknown, and very hard to believe in. This is where patience, persistence, and faith in a new possibility really matters.

Changing the Mythic Story reality lets you take apart and rewrite one story at a time. Changing your Essential Beliefs lets you pull out the roots of tens or hundreds of stories at once. It can remake a person, or remake a whole life.

Changing stories and essential beliefs is not about misleading yourself about the world. Rather, it is about opening to the possibility that you may be misperceiving things, and respectfully checking in with other people to hear their side of the story. You may find that your fears are confirmed – but then you know you are responding to reality instead of spinning a myth.  Or you may find that your perceptions were off, and the reality is much less scary and more reasonable.  Asking is key.

Practice:

Examine the situation from the Physical and Mythic Story layers.  Look at the story you wrote and the roles people played.

Identify one or two words that describe the Essential Beliefs about the world that hold you to that Story.

Extra challenge: Go talk to a person you trust who was involved in or watched that situation. Ask them for their description of what happened, and check whether it confirms or challenges your story and essential beliefs.

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If I wasn’t the person I’m used to being from this set of stories and essential beliefs… who else could I be? 

If those I interacted with didn’t mean to hurt me, what else could they have meant? How can I ask them?

Resources

Diana’s Grove Mystery School teaches the Four Levels model, and has an article in their web magazine from 2005 (page 17). Another great article in that same issue is “Labyrinth Journey” (page 11) which examines how people deal with feelings and pain, exploring Roles, Hurt Child, and Impasse.  Their booklet The Bones of Mystery School explains the origins of the Four Levels model (page 24), and explores it in more depth (page 24 – 34).

These two stories about gaining awareness in a moment of anger are also useful. The monk with the ungovernable temper and The samurai and the gates of heaven.

I often find that blogs end an interesting topic too early, and I want more.  So at the end of some articles, I will provide links to other related websites for deeper study. I am not a paid sponsor, nor am I trained by or endorsing any particular groups. I am just pointing you towards resources that I find relevant.

Compassion

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Loving-kindness and compassion are the basis for wise, powerful, sometimes gentle, and sometimes fierce actions that can really make a difference — in our own lives and those of others.  – Sharon Salzberg

To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. – Howard Zinn

The major block to compassion is the judgment in our minds. Judgment is the mind’s primary tool of separation. – Diane Berke

Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as real strength. – Frances de Sales

At the heart of many of my values is compassion – empathy for other people, and patience with myself.  I don’t always practice it as well as I would like.  (Who does?) But I do go through my daily life with a clear awareness that others have hidden pain, unfulfilled needs, and reasons for their behaviors that I may not have the background to understand.  In recognizing their humanness, I have more patience for quirks and irritations, and I’m more stable dealing with conflicts or confusing moments.

Acting reflexively from compassion doesn’t come out of nowhere; it takes time, thought, and practice.

The first step to practicing compassion is Self.

I cannot consistently act compassionately for others if I haven’t first done my personal work, and met my own needs reasonably well.  If I choose to commit to holding a value of compassion and acting from that, then I am also committing to taking care of myself effectively.

• Am I fed, rested, and cravings satisfied? Am I physically healthy and not in severe pain?
• Have I sought out social contact, and ensured my emotional and communication needs are met?
• If I am working with other leaders, have I ensured I have a team to lean on for support among the other leaders, and not by putting my needs onto the people I serve?
• If I am feeling anxious or not confident, have I given myself a pep talk and tried to address the issues?
• If pain from my past is coloring my interpretation of current events, have I taken the time to ask questions, check in with reality, and try believing that this new situation could be different?  Have I worked on healing my long-term emotional wounds?

On days when I am hungry, tired, moody, I am far less likely to remember to think and act compassionately.  On days when my needs are intense and unfulfilled, I tend to be rash and snappy instead of taking the time to consider results.  And during moments of tragedy when my world feels crushed, I may be blind to others’ needs because my own needs are so intensely present.

Feeling bad myself isn’t an excuse for acting without compassion.  But taking care of myself is my responsibility, to be able to put my values into action more fully.  Can you feel the difference between excuses/blame versus responsibility/choice?

This leads me to another aspect – to be compassionate with others, I must first be compassionate with myself.

No holding onto guilt and judgment and self-punishment and berating every mistake or slight misstep.  No viewing myself as too weak-willed to put my values into action.  No using perfectionism as an excuse to avoid trying.  No expecting perfection in the first day and then giving up completely when I make a mistake.   And no guilting myself when I realize I’m feeling resistance, making excuses, distracting, procrastinating, or worrying.  Instead, I notice it, acknowledge it’s there… and let it go.

And in this moment, realizing that I’m avoiding – I have choice.  I can look inside and figure out why I am avoiding, and see if that’s resolvable.  I can move ahead and do the thing I was avoiding, even if it takes a bit of work to get past the fear.  Or I can allow myself to keep avoiding, and practice non-judgment about that choice.  No guilt.  Just choice.  How does that feel?

Working on my inner self is the beginning.  Practicing self-compassion is a way to reduce the need for emotional defensiveness.  If I am attacking myself all the time, of course I am going to feel guarded, nervous, not good enough, and prickly.  I am more likely to lash out in fear or anger at others who make an ambiguous or misheard comment.  And that drains my energy and introduces conflict where it wasn’t necessary.  Self-compassion lowers the shields, puts away the canons, and makes space for a new experience.

The second step is deeply listening to others.

Compassion happens when I hear another person’s pain, or history, or reasons for their choices.  Compassion happens when I let the other person live and tell their own story, and avoid projecting my imagined meaning, reasons, or outcome onto it.  Compassion happens when I trust a person to make their own decisions, even if I disagree, and I accept that they may have reasons, feelings, or insight about their situation that I do not have.

Compassion accepts that I am limited, you are limited, and all of us are making day to day decisions without knowledge of the future, and with a limited education and perspective.  Compassion accepts that some of us are injured, fighting untreatable illness, coming from backgrounds of deprivation or abuse, or just plain having a bad day.  Compassion recognizes that I cannot know another’s plight unless I make space for them to feel safe enough to share their story… and I ask, and listen, and do not cut them off with my interpretation or judgment.  Compassion recognizes that not everyone has the language or emotional skill or time to put their story into words, and so even if I ask, I am only seeing part of the story.

Compassion is knowing that we all struggle, and having extra patience with the awkward moments, confusions, conflicts, and accidents that happen as we bump into each other throughout the days.

I awakened to a deeper meaning of compassion when I attended a personal growth program where many people were doing deep emotional healing.  In various workshops and exercises, we listened to each others’ stories, heartbreaks, and struggles – not to give advice, but just to be a listening ear, a supportive friend.  Some of the stories truly broke my heart — broke it wide open, with a wish to see them heal and grow beyond those wounds.  And it broke open with respect for their strength, their courage, their patience, their compassion, their persistence.

If I had been trying to give advice, to “help,” I would have missed out on that respect.  Advice is a subtle message that says, I can solve your problem when you cannot.  We often want to be helpful, and offering information when the person asks for it is appropriate.  Unsolicited advice, however, can be an overt power-over tactic, or it can be an unintentional insult or invasion.  This is a subtle balance and very culturally sensitive.  I find it is usually better to ask, “Do you want a listening ear, or do you want advice or help?”  That leaves space for them to make their own choice, and still allows for a compassionate and supportive response. The person may choose the option to talk through what they’re feeling and struggling with, move through the emotions by feeling and expressing them in words, and then have a clearer head to solve their situation themselves.  By respecting their choice to vent and express, without trying to fix, I show respect for their power and autonomy in dealing with the situation themselves.  I am subtly showing, “I believe in you.”

Compassion can be listening or it can be action… but don’t underestimate the power of just listening.

The third step is realizing when compassionate action may need to be direct and honest to an individual, for the benefit of a larger group.

People lean on each other.  This is why we choose to live in families, communities, friendships, tribes.  Living in close quarters can bring us into unintentional conflict with each other.

Sometimes the most compassionate way to deal with a situation is head-on, with direct communication and clear limits and boundaries.

It’s a weekend retreat; there are thirty of us living in a few cabins and sharing one kitchen while we attend workshops and activities.  People chat around the table at meals and between events, and I’ve been excitedly joining in on the chatter.  What I haven’t realized is that each time I talk, I am unintentionally one-upping each person’s story, as if the wounds we’ve suffered are a competition.  At first they ignore it; they avoid talking to me, avoid topics I seem to be overly enthusiastic about, and they pull away.  They’re afraid to be rude by challenging me.  I get the sense that people don’t like me but don’t know why, and spend the rest of the week off by myself, avoiding the group and nursing my bruised social confidence.

Then, someone notices that I’m avoiding groups.  She comes over and asks me what’s up. I explain that I didn’t feel like I fit in.  She sits quietly for a moment, and then says, “Well, actually, I heard some comments a few days ago that you kept speaking too loudly, and instead of listening to someone’s story, you take over conversation with your own.  I don’t think anyone dislikes you personally, but you might try working on your communication style next time you’re in a group.”  I take a moment to recover from my surprise, thank her, and return to the table – and in a few hours I’m blending in successfully, a bit humbled by the experience, but listening more carefully and learning.

Notice that this goes straight into the realm of unasked-for advice?  As I said, that’s a balancing act.

Is it more compassionate to let someone fumble through an issue that’s affecting a community… or help them figure out what’s wrong (even if they’d rather not hear it)… in the hopes that it will help others?

This is where compassion expands to the group, instead of just two people.  When a community is negatively affected by one person’s choices, the community may need that person to hear about their impact.

Hopefully that communication can still be respectful.  Hopefully that person can be approached in a way that isn’t intimidating or threatening, and is relatively easy to listen to and hear accurately and completely.  Hopefully that communication can include the respect and appreciation that the community does feel for that person, in spite of the current issues.  Accomplishing that is a skill of graceful communication that can be learned but isn’t easy, and also depends on the listener.

The final step to compassion is setting healthy boundaries and knowing when to walk away.

Remember how the first step was to take care of self?  Having limits and boundaries is a strategy for remaining healthy in difficult circumstances.

Boundaries mean knowing what is me and what is not me; understanding that your feelings are separate from mine, and do not need to determine my reality.  I do not need to cater to them or rebel against them, because I have my own feelings to make my decisions from.  Boundaries mean keeping a clear sense of myself, my needs, and that I have value regardless of what one other person thinks of me.

Limits are the ways that I enforce my needs.  Limits say, I am willing to put up with this up to a point, but not beyond this.  Limits are how I declare what is nonnegotiable in my daily life, my relationships, my health, my feelings, my body.  If I allow my limits to be crossed, I pay for it with my own pain, and it compromises my ability to function effectively and act compassionately.  Saying “No” is a healthy tool for maintaining effective relationships.

When a community member consistently causes trouble for a group, and when interventions have failed or been insufficient, sometimes it is appropriate to ask that person to leave the group.  Likewise, if a person is having trouble with a group, and the group will not adjust or act in healthy ways, healthy limits mean that person will choose to leave the group that is not meeting their needs.

Our world is large and there are many options, many places to start over, and many ways to get the resources to meet basic needs.  We are not dependent on each other for our daily survival, and so it is not unreasonable to use separation as a final resolution of difficulties.  We can choose who to associate with, and we can choose to address difficulties directly, and when that doesn’t work, we choose when to leave.

Compassion and honest conflict are not opposites.  Sometimes the point of mediation is not a solution or a compromise that works equally badly for both sides, but rather, clarity on differences and mutual understanding of boundaries and limits.  Sometimes conflict is absolutely healthy, compassionate, and appropriate.

Acting compassionately then becomes a dedication to learning graceful communication, so that conflict can be respectful and effective rather than wounding, shaming, or bruising.

In Summary

Compassion as a way of life leads towards peace, and also towards dedication to practices of good communication skills, sensitivity and careful observation, and recognition of one’s own and others’ needs, limits, and resources.

Compassion starts with the self, for it is not until we can stop beating ourselves up that we can start to diffuse our defensiveness and make space to sincerely hear another, without projections or judgments.

Compassion reaches out from self, to one other, to a few others, and then to the group and community.  While it tries not to wound or shame, it also recognizes hard limits and when the kind thing to do is speak up and raise an issue honestly and clearly.

Compassion asks questions instead of presuming motivation.  It recognizes limited information instead of judging another’s choices or life story.  Compassion recognizes someone’s “no” and is willing to hear it, and avoids coercion, pressuring, or other disrespectful behavior.  Compassion for oneself understands the value of a social safety net of other people to lean on for support.

Compassion as a way of life brings peace to self and others, by ensuring that issues don’t stew, and by finding respectful ways to work through challenges.

Resources

For a deeper exploration, I found these pages helpful.

The Center for Nonviolent Communication provides some information. Concepts goes over basics,  and the Needs and Feelings lists give vocabulary to help figure out inner experiences. They also have Chapter 1 of their book online.

MindTools.com has an article on how communication gets confused or lost.

NewConversations.net has a workbook with actionable behaviors for improving communication.

LivingCompassion.org has information on mindful awareness as a practice for compassion.

CommunicatingWithHeart.com has an article on personal power in communication.

From Flickr

Welcome to my new blog! I hope you will let yourself be touched by life.

At a personal growth retreat program, I encountered the idea of letting life touch me, change me, and reshape me like a stone tumbled in a river.

A stone that breaks off of a larger rock starts with sharp edges, jagged shapes, and doesn’t stack smoothly. Let that stone tumble around in a river for a few years, and the river will wear and polish it. It will be easier to stack and more beautiful.

My rough edges are the things that make me prickly.

They are the hurts I’ve experienced, the fears I have, the sharp words that I speak too quickly, and the times when I close my mind to other options. They are the days when I feel stubborn, stuck, and rebellious, as well as the days when I feel tired, hopeless, worthless, or confused. My rough edges are the things that make me stiff and severe, and interfere with my goals, dreams, and relationships.

The waters of compassion and the river of life experiences help me soften those edges. Water reminds me to flow, to move, change form and let natural cycles carry me along. Water – and sometimes tears – remind me to take off my armor and let my soft body feel vulnerable, open, and engaged. Compassion and patience wear down my rough edges, polishing and smoothing me. And so, I find myself more able to work with a team, more able to stay on task when solo, and with more energy available for creativity, practice, and joy. In the process, I am changed.

Life asks me to change all the time – I realize it when I realize that a habit I had isn’t working anymore. I can change it or I can try to hold on.

Sometimes I dive right in to figure out a new path, like a curious kitten on an adventure. Sometimes I adapt more slowly, a bit hesitant, cautious, trying to keep myself safe. And other times I resist life’s changes for all I can muster, kicking and dragging my feet – or hiding out in mindless Internet surfing and Facebook refreshes. But no matter my response to it, life goes on asking me to change. At least when I go willingly, I get a choice about which direction to turn.

And so, my philosophy – I choose to let myself be touched by life. I let life touch my heart, touch my mind, I let it inside me, and I let it change me. I won’t hold myself away from other people, new experiences, unfamiliar tasks, and unexpected challenges. I will step in, participate, and figure out what’s needed as I go. I will let “who I am” adapt, adjust, and be unpredictable.

I will let myself be Touched by Life.