Three Steps Toward Self-Compassion and The Freedom It Holds
As you watch Harry Potter's journey to vanquish Voldemort, you can see how painful it can be to acknowledge pain from the past.
Yet not doing so can easily lead to remaining blind about how that past is affecting your present. Roger is a good example.
How to learn self-compassion; See yourself with kindness; Identify your childhood safety strategy; Create more freedom in the present
Sometimes painful emotions feel like they may kill you.
Perhaps Dumbledore's response to Harry Potter said it best.
“I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"
"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.”
For underneath Harry's smoldering determination to vanquish the vicious Voldemort lay tremendous grief. His parents had been murdered when he was only a toddler, and although he'd found wonderful friends and protective wizards, he was alone in that sorrow. Connecting more deeply with the pain that fueled his resolve seemed as if it would kill him as well.
Perhaps you've felt something like Harry.
Isn't the past better left in the past?
What can you do about old hurt anyway? Maybe your mom was a roaring alcoholic or your dad had multiple affairs. Perhaps your older brother fondled you or you were raped in college... or you constantly felt threatened as a kid or you were in a terrible accident that took the life of a friend.
The past is the past. What's the point of dredging up old pain?
Because without acknowledgement of it, self-compassion cannot occur- and you'll live out that pain in ways you won't be able to see.
Let's talk about Roger.
Roger came to therapy because he was trying to decide whether to divorce or not. He'd been married many years, with no children, to a woman with whom he'd been happy. But now in middle age, although very successful, he felt compelled to do something else with his life. The true midlife crisis. So he'd decided that divorce was the answer, even though he admitted his wife was his best friend.
I asked him what other changes might fill this yearning.
Roger: "I could quit my job. I've always wanted to do something to help other people -- volunteer my time and expertise."
Me: "What would keep you from doing that?"
He paused first, then replied, "To be honest? I can still hear my dad screaming at me that I wouldn't amount to anything."
"And how do you feel about that now?"
Again, another pause. His face was set as he stared out the window. "I don't know how rich I've got to be to actually feel successful. All I know is that it's not enough now."
"What do you feel when you remember being screamed at like that?"
"Oh, I don't talk to my dad anymore."
I tried again. "But what do you feel? What would you want to say to that child -- the child who was you?"
"I don't know. Go be successful. Prove your dad wrong."
Roger could show no compassion for himself, then or now. And sadly, his next choices kept him blind to what was driving his tremendous need for even more success.
He divorced his wife and quickly got into another relationship. He told his ex, however, that he'd always take care of her. He didn't understand why she remained so hurt. And he left therapy.
So what can you do to avoid a similar paralysis?
Three steps in developing self-compassion...
See yourself as you might view others - with compassion. Risk feeling vulnerable.
If you saw an adult hurling rocks at a small child, would you ever tell that child that their fear or confusion wasn't important? You deserve compassion and protection as much as that child. But you have to grant this kindness to yourself first. And it will take time as you struggle with a fear of vulnerability.
Recognize the defense mechanisms or strategies you used in the past to cope with/detach from pain or trauma. What did you tell yourself you had to do to remain safe?
When there was no one to help -- when no one stopped your parent from screaming at you, no one noticed the bullying, your brother told you he'd hurt you if you ever told about the abuse, you've tried to forget the rape -- you had to emotionally survive, to create some kind of safety. So you began detaching from the pain of what was happening.
Yet those emotions aren't gone; they're simply hidden or suppressed. And there's a price to pay for your detachment. They're having a silent effect on your choices, and your life. Begin to look at how this dynamic could be happening; recognize your past strategy as helping you survive, but also see how it's creating a problem in your present.
Replace the old strategy with one that allows for more freedom from the past, more spontaneity in the present and newly discovered self-acceptance..
In the end, Harry Potter vanquished Voldemort. He used his tortured emotional memories - his grief from and connections with a very painful past - to give him the strength to do so.
Emotional pain may feel as if it's going to kill you. Yet if you feel it, you aren't going to live it out blindly.
If you need help, please ask for it. Reach out. Be compassionate with yourself. And risk vulnerability.