“Self-kindness involves more than merely stopping self-judgment. It involves actively comforting ourselves, responding just as we would to a dear friend in need. It means we allow ourselves to be emotionally moved by our own pain . . . With self-kindness, we soothe and calm our troubled minds. We make a peace offering of warmth, gentleness and sympathy from ourselves to ourselves, so that true healing can occur.”
So, I think about what would I do for a friend with stage 4 cancer, who might also be a recovering addict? Would I do the same for me, given my identical circumstances? I have thought about my having an “attitude of gratitude” for my life today. Is that all that I would offer to a friend – be grateful for what you have today?
I don’t have any good answers, but I am coming to appreciate questions. First, as I have written about extensively over the last year, there is no question in my mind that attitude and activity have as much to do with my cancer treatment as the medical component. Second, I have an illness, from which I consider myself healed of the causes, but in need of treatment. In the same way if I do not live the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous my quality of life will deteriorate, I must also continue the medical treatments for my cancer to continue life on this earth.
Two weekends ago I was exhausted. I called off on several events and activities in which I was to participate. Instead, I stayed home, and mostly in bed, for three days. Emma attributes the setback to my overactivity during the preceding warm 80-degree days, followed by the 40-degree overcast and rainy weather. Perhaps. Regardless, I was pleased I took the steps toward self-care to recharge. At the same time, I realize how much I missed the activities including Sunday worship and the Wilderness Sunday School class that are integral parts of my week.
There must be a balance. In today’s lectionary reading (Luke 7:17-26) is the Sermon on the Plain where Jesus says “Blessed are you who are poor . . . ” and a few lines later “But woe to you who are rich . . .”
Am I poor or rich? If I consider myself poor, can I live off of my laurels? If I consider myself rich, must I become homeless to escape the woe? Do I rationalize my judgment at my convenience? Or do I live in the tension of never having a definitive answer to the question, but act and live appropriately given a specific time and place? I think the latter.
I am coming to believe that the same is true for self-compassion – there is no simple answer, but I must live in the tension between the extremes.
Right now, as I sit on our back porch, listen to my favorite crow cawing from the top of the leafless pecan tree, and watch the palm tree branches sway from the monkeys (Emma thinks they are squirrels, but who can tell for sure?) on the chase, I am at peace.