Being kind to yourself- a story

 This month I have been receiving a daily email from Shamash Alidina (here ) and it has been a great point of focus during the working week to read the email and take a few moments.  

Moving forward this is something that I may do on the blog- a weekly update perhaps with a meditation. I will work on that idea...

In the meantime, I would like to share the story that Shamash sent out last week as it's been one that has resonated particularly well for me trying not to let the old impersonator syndrome come to the surface as a newbie at work.

Enjoy

***

Once upon a time there was a water bearer who carried two pots of water to his teacher each day.

Each day he would walk to the nearest stream, fill both pots with water, and walk back, one pot on each side of a pole he carried across his neck.

One pot was cracked, and so by the time the water bearer reached his teacher, it was only half full.

This continued for two years, with the water bearer only bringing one and a half pots of water.

The perfect pot was proud of its achievements.

The cracked pot was sad that it could only do half the job it was supposed to do.

One day, the cracked pot said to the water bearer, ‘I feel so upset and ashamed. I’m imperfect and I can’t hold a full pot of water. What use am I to anyone?’

The water bearer told the cracked pot to look on the ground as he carried it.

The cracked pot noticed the most beautiful wild flowers and plants on its side of the path.

The water bearer explained, ‘When I realised you were cracked, I decided to plant seeds on one side of the path, and every day, as you leak, you water that side of the path.

If you weren’t cracked, these gorgeous flowers wouldn’t be here for all to enjoy.’

Moral of the Story: Sometimes you may think you’re not perfect, or your mindfulness practise is not perfect, but how do you know?

This story goes to show that even a cracked pot can be seen as perfect just as it is.

In the same way, you’re perfect just the way you are, with all your imperfections – they’re what make you unique.

So, thank you for being a cracked pot!

***

Self Compassion

 

Here in the UK there has just been a general election. Living in a democratic country we have the choice to vote or not. This got me thinking about self compassion and conversations held in classrooms when children ( often at the start of the new school year) put themselves forward to represent the school on various coiuncils/forums/groups.

Chldren will put together the reasons for why they should be chosen and their peers then vote.

'Can I vote for myself?' is a question I have always been asked in these situations. 
The answer I have alwatys given ( and this is where you will see that my opening preamble about the election was not totally random!) : 'Of course you can. After all, everyone gets to vote and if you don't havw belief in yourself how can you expect anyone else to?'

Obviously general election votes are secret , but I can't imagine that politicians vote for their opponents.

So self compassion, self belief. Way before mindfulness was something I had heard of this was something that I firmly believed in and still do. 

So why is it so hard to be kind to ourselves? Why, when we can show kindness to strangers, give to charity, tear up at a sad story on the news and be there for our friends are we so often our own greatest critic? 

Is it a fear of coming across as conceited? Is it the pressure to be constantly striving to be better.

'Where do you see yourself in five years? What's your plan? What are your goals? Here are some unachievable targets to work towards...' blablabla.  

How about the here and now. How are you doing right now? What's going well? 

I am not for one moment suggesting that we should not have goals, aims, aspirations, targets, dreams. However, it is so easy to get tied up in those. 

I am not perfect- and I wouldn't want to be. Now at an age where I have lost friends to illness the fragility of life becomes so much more apparent. I am trying to be kinder to myself, trying to talk to myself the way I talk to my loved ones when things don't go to plan. 

And does it make a difference? Yes a million times over. It takes practice and there are times when the inner critic shouts loudest, but with the practice the voice is becoming quieter.

Breathe, notice, acknowledge, be kind, process, proceed. 

If you have never had the chance to read the wonderful book by Charlie Mackesy I highly recommend it. The boy, the mole,, the fox anfd the horse. ( There are quite a few on similar themes but this is my favourite ) 

To close, I would like to share this beautiful poem written by Becky Hemsley 2023 

( You can find her on Facebook or her website here )

I know there may have been times in your life when you’ve
stopped dancing, stopped singing, stopped being yourself
because someone was watching you. Judging you.

And you are not the only one to feel this way. But I can’t help thinking that we’ve got it all wrong.

We’ve been taught that we must only be ourselves if it suits other people.

We must only sing if it sounds pleasing to those listening.
We must only dance if it looks good to onlookers.

But we are so wrong.

The birds sing - not because we might listen -
but simply with the joy of being alive.

And the trees dance in the wind - not because it looks good for us -
but because they are alive. Living in the moment. Whatever the moment may bring.

So sing as loud as you wish
and dance as much as you like.

You do not exist for the enjoyment of others.

You exist to be alive.

Properly, fully, beautifully alive.

******

Mindfulness? Isn't that just a bit trendy and 'pop-sciencey'?

 If you had asked me what my opinions and thoughts were around mindfulness a few years ago I would have come up with a list something along the lines of:

trendy

a bit like yoga without the moving

colouring

emptying the mind

not for me

another passing fad

You get the idea. To be perfectly honest it wasn't something that I had given a huge amount of thought to. It wasn't something that came up in my family or social circles, it wasn't something that was considered to be especially relevant at work. In a nutshell it wasn't something that I thought would be for me.

My work situation changed and I started to consider alternative career paths. After various conversations, I started an introduction to counselling course.  At the same time it was suggested at work that we would devote a big chunk of our allocated CPD time to a mindfulness course. To give a little context to this - the pandemic and subsequent lockdowns had just come to an end (the lockdowns anyway had ended) and awareness of mental health , wellbeing across the world was pretty much at the forefront of everyone's thoughts.

I was feeling fairly uninspired by the idea of having to spend a day followed by a series of after work sessions on mindfulness; I found it hard at this point to see beyond the irony of mindfulness and being at work. However, it was certainly something that sounded more interesting than some of the 57,000 slide presentations that one has to sit through sometimes ( sorry, I am prone to exaggeration at times but you get the idea)

The dates were set. Compassionate mindfulness. Here goes...

My next post will continue the journey. I am not going to get all evangelical about things, that's not my style (not even sure that I have a style!) but it's a journey that I am so happy to have started and three years down the line feel that it's one to keep on exploring and learning from.