Four steps to stop being so hard on ourselves.
Illustrations by Michael Woloschinow
When I was in college, I went off to the mountains for a weekend of
hiking with an older, wiser friend of twenty-two. After setting up our
tent, we sat by a stream, watching the water swirl around rocks, talking
about our lives. At one point she described how she was learning to be
“her own best friend.” A wave of sadness came over me, and I broke down
sobbing. I was the furthest thing from my own best friend. I was
continually harassed by an inner judge who was merciless, nit-picking,
demanding, always on the job. My guiding assumption was, “Something is
fundamentally wrong with me,” as I struggled to control and fix what
felt like a basically flawed self.
Over the last several decades, through my work with tens of thousands
of clients and meditation students, I’ve come to see the pain of
perceived deficiency as epidemic. It’s like we’re in a trance that
causes us to see ourselves as unworthy. Yet, I have seen in my own life,
and with countless others, that we can awaken from this trance through
practicing mindfulness and self-compassion. We can come to trust the
goodness and purity of our hearts.
In order to flower, self-compassion depends on honest, direct contact
with our own vulnerability. Compassion fully blossoms when we actively
offer care to ourselves. To help people address feelings of insecurity
and unworthiness, I often introduce mindfulness and compassion through a
meditation I call the RAIN of Self-Compassion. The acronym RAIN,
first coined about 20 years ago by Michele McDonald, is an
easy-to-remember tool for practicing mindfulness. It has four steps:
Recognize what is going on;
Allow the experience to be there, just as it is;
Investigate with kindness;
Natural awareness, which comes from not identifying
with the experience.
You can take your time and explore RAIN as a stand-alone meditation or move through the steps in a more abbreviated way whenever challenging feelings arise.
R—Recognize What's Going On
Recognizing means consciously acknowledging, in any given moment, the
thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that are affecting us. Like awakening
from a dream, the first step out of the trance of unworthiness is
simply to recognize that we are stuck, subject to painfully constricting
beliefs, emotions, and physical sensations. Common signs of the trance
include a critical inner voice, feelings of shame or fear, the squeeze
of anxiety or the weight of depression in the body.
In order to flower, self-compassion depends on
honest, direct contact with our own vulnerability. Compassion fully
blossoms when we actively offer care to ourselves.
Different people respond to the sense of unworthiness in different
ways. Some might stay busy, trying to prove themselves valuable; others,
fearful of failure, may become discouraged or even paralyzed. Still
others may resort to addictive behaviors to avoid facing their shame and
fear. Any of these strategies can lead to either defensive or
aggressive behavior with others, or unhealthy attachment.
Some of us are at war with ourselves for decades, never realizing how
our self-judgment and self-aversion keep us from finding genuine
intimacy with others or enjoying our lives. One palliative caregiver
reports that a key regret of the dying is not having been true to
themselves. Rather than listening to and trusting our inner life, most
of us try to live according to the expectations of others, which we
internalize. When we inevitably fall short of the mark, we condemn
ourselves.
Though it may sound depressing or overwhelming, learning to recognize
that we are at war with ourselves is quite empowering. One meditation
student described the trance of unworthiness as “…the invisible and
toxic gas I am always breathing.” As he became increasingly mindful of
his incessant self-judgment and feelings of inadequacy, his aspiration
to free himself from his painful inner prison grew.
A—Allowing: Taking a Life-Giving Pause
Allowing means letting the thoughts, emotions, feelings, or
sensations we have recognized simply be there. Typically when we have an
unpleasant experience, we react in one of three ways: by piling on the
judgment; by numbing ourselves to our feelings; or by focusing our
attention elsewhere. For example, we might have the sinking, shameful
feeling of having been too harsh in correcting our child. But rather
than allowing that feeling, we might blame our partner for not doing his
or her part, worry about something completely different, or decide it’s
time for a nap. We’re resisting the rawness and unpleasantness of the
feeling by withdrawing from the present moment.
We allow by simply pausing with the intention to relax our resistance
and let the experience be just as it is. Allowing our thoughts,
emotions, or bodily sensations simply to be doesn’t mean we agree with
our conviction that we’re unworthy. Rather, we honestly acknowledge the
presence of our judgment, as well as the painful feelings underneath.
Many students I work with support their resolve to let it be by silently
offering an encouraging word or phrase to themselves. For instance, you
might feel the grip of fear and mentally whisper yes in order to
acknowledge and accept the reality of your experience in this moment.
Victor Frankel writes, “Between the stimulus and the response there
is a space, and in this space lies our power and our freedom.” Allowing
creates a space that enables us to see more deeply into our own being,
which, in turn, awakens our caring and helps us make wiser choices in
life. For one student, the space of allowing gave her more freedom in
the face of urges to binge eat. In the past, whenever she felt restless
or anxious at night, she’d start thinking of her favorite food—trail
mix—then mindlessly consume a half pound of it before going to bed,
disgusted with herself.
Learning to recognize the cues and taking a
pause interrupted the pattern. While pausing, she would allow herself to
feel the tension in her body, her racing heart, the craving. Soon, she
began to contact a poignant sense of loneliness buried beneath her
anxiety. She found that if she could stay with the loneliness and be
gentle with herself, the craving passed.
I—Investigating with Kindness
Investigating means calling on our natural curiosity—the desire to
know truth—and directing a more focused attention to our present
experience. Simply pausing to ask, what is happening inside me?, can
initiate recognition, but investigation adds a more active and pointed
kind of inquiry. You might ask yourself: What most wants attention? How
am I experiencing this in my body? Or What am I believing? What does
this feeling want from me? You might notice hollowness or shakiness,
then discover a sense of unworthiness and shame masked by those
feelings. Unless you bring them into awareness, your unconscious beliefs
and emotions will control your experience and perpetuate your
identification with a limited, deficient self.
Poet Dorothy Hunt says that we need a “...heartspace where everything
that is, is welcome.” Without such an attitude of unconditional care,
there isn’t enough safety and openness for real investigation to take
place. About ten years ago I entered a period of chronic illness. During
one particularly challenging period of pain and fatigue, I became
discouraged and unhappy. In my view I was terrible to be
around—impatient, self-absorbed, irritable, gloomy. I began working with
RAIN to recognize these feelings and judgments and to
consciously allow the unpleasantness in my body and emotions to just be
there. As I began to investigate, I heard an embittered voice: “I hate
living like this.” And then a moment later, “I hate myself!” The full
toxicity of self-aversion filled me.
Not only was I struggling with illness, I was at war with the
self-centered, irritable person I believed I had become. Unknowingly, I
had turned on myself and was held captive by the trance of unworthiness.
But in that moment of recognizing and allowing the suffering of
self-hatred, my heart began to soften with compassion.
Here’s a story that helps to describe the process I went through.
Imagine while walking in the woods you see a small dog sitting by a
tree. You bend down to pet it and it suddenly lunges at you, teeth
bared. Initially you might be frightened and angry. But then you notice
one of its legs is caught in a trap, buried under some leaves.
Immediately your mood shifts from anger to concern. You see that the
dog’s aggression sprang from vulnerability and pain.
This applies to all of us. When we behave in hurtful, reactive ways,
it’s because we’re caught in some kind of painful trap. The more we
investigate the source of our suffering, the more we cultivate a
compassionate heart toward ourselves and others.
When I recognized how my leg was in a trap—sickness compounded with
self aversion— my heart filled with sorrow and genuine self-care. The
investigating deepened as I gently put my hand over my heart—a gesture
of kindness— and invited whatever other feelings were there to surface. A
swell of fear (uncertainty for my future) spread through my chest,
followed by an upwelling of grief at losing my health. The sense of
self-compassion unfurled fully as I mentally whispered, It’s all right,
sweetheart, and consciously offered care to the depths of my
vulnerability, just as I would to a dear friend.
Compassion arises naturally when we mindfully contact our suffering and respond with care. As you practice the RAIN
of Self-Compassion, experiment and see which intentional gesture of
kindness most helps to soften or open your heart. Many people find
healing by gently placing a hand on the heart or cheek; others, in a
whispered message of care, or by envisioning being bathed in warm,
radiant light. What matters is that once you have investigated and
connected with your suffering, respond by offering care to your own
heart. When the intention to awaken self love and compassion is sincere,
the smallest gesture—even if, initially, it feels awkward— will serve
you well.
N—Natural Loving Awareness
Natural loving awareness occurs when identification with the small
self is loosened. This practice of non-identification means that our
sense of who we are is not fused with any limiting emotions, sensations,
or stories. We begin to intuit and live from the openness and love that
express our natural awareness.
Though the first three steps of RAIN require some intentional activity, the N is the treasure: A liberating homecoming to our true nature. There’s nothing to do for this last part of RAIN; we simply rest in natural awareness.
The RAIN of Self-Compassion is not a one-shot meditation,
nor is the realization of our natural awareness necessarily full,
stable, or enduring. Rather, as you practice you may experience a sense
of warmth and openness, a shift in perspective. You can trust this! RAIN is
a practice for life—meeting our doubts and fears with a healing
presence. Each time you are willing to slow down and recognize, oh, this
is the trance of unworthiness… this is fear… this is hurt…this is
judgment…, you are poised to de-condition the old habits and limiting
self-beliefs that imprison your heart. Gradually, you’ll experience
natural loving awareness as the truth of who you are, more than any
story you ever told yourself about being “not good enough” or “basically
flawed.”
A friend of mine was sitting with her dying mother while she was in a
coma. At one point the mother opened her eyes, looked at her daughter
with great lucidity, and said “You know, all my life I thought something
was wrong with me.” She closed her eyes, sank back into a coma and died
shortly thereafter. For my friend, her mother’s words were a parting
gift. They inspired her to dedicate herself to the mindfulness and
self-compassion that frees us.
We each have the conditioning to live for long stretches of time
imprisoned by a sense of deficiency, cut off from realizing our
intrinsic intelligence, aliveness, and love. The greatest blessing we
can give ourselves is to recognize the pain of this trance, and
regularly offer a cleansing rain of self-compassion to our awakening
hearts.
