I used to drive a used 2007 Toyota Prius. Dents on the roof panel, rusted tire wells, upholstery stained with petrified banana chunks. I called him Clank because every time I closed the driver-side door it sounded like banging a cheap heating duct.
Clank!
Clank had an indicator light that never stopped blinking. No mechanic could figure out what was wrong. But Clank had heart. He kept going, protecting my family, also getting excellent mileage.
Blink, blink.
Every time his indicator light blinked, I decided it was a sign that Clank needed love. I’d pat his plastic dashboard and say ‘It’s OK buddy.’
You can probably tell where I’m going with this. We all have our own indicator lights, always particular, often overlooked. Maybe a low-level emotional ache that’s often in the background, or a literal pain in the neck, throbbing with each new responsibility. For me, today, it came in the form of agonized rumination about how to problem-solve every part of my life.
For two hours, I walked around under one of those Charlie Brown thunder-scribbles. In pain, and resisting that pain, because I wasn’t clear enough to notice I was in pain in the first place. And then:
Blink, blink.
Oh. Right. Thanks Clank – my spiritual teacher. I don’t actually need to problem solve everything right now. What I need is more care in the tank. I paused, took a few breaths, and patted myself on the chest: ‘It’s OK buddy.”
Self-compassion is a subject I’d long avoided. When I started doing meditation retreats, I would focus on the warrior aspect of sitting in humorless determination. Which didn’t get me far, although I did get better at noticing my humorless determination. At the time I thought self-compassion was a bit self-indulgent, and happened mostly in spas. Also I didn’t think I deserved it – a rather harsh judgment that itself throbbed painfully in the background of my life.
Blink, blink.
Then one night, when our first baby was howling through an interminable sleep regression – my own nervous system bolting and seizing – I put a hand on my chest, and noticed my whole body settle. I said, “It’s OK buddy.”
My animal body responded immediately to touch. It grounded me, and strengthened me, and helped me find my feet. As I settled, baby settled too. It was a kind of sympathetic magic. Compassion propagates.
When our environment feels hostile, self-compassion is the environment we learn to create inside ourselves. We don’t need to summon any extra energy to do this – we can say a supportive phrase, go for a walk with a friend, or drink a glass of water. Whatever kindness works for our system. The implementation itself isn’t hard. What’s hard is remembering. What’s hard is believing we’re worthy of kindness in the first place.
A guided meditation can help break the ice. Like any habit, the more you practice, the easier it gets. In honor of Clank, here’s a short meditation about noticing our own personal indicator lights, and then sending in some love. You don’t have to fold yourself into a special sitting position – you can play it in the background while washing dishes, or half-listen as you walk the dog. Whatever works.
Much love my friend!
Jeff
PS - We’ve decided to start offering an extended 20-minute version of each Home Base meditation. These will be available to all paid subscribers. Click the button below to listen and let us know what you think.
Have a meditation request?
Great – please fill out this form. Write (brief) context about you and your situation, including what’s helped in the past, or maybe where your curiosity comes from. Although I can’t respond to all requests, the act of simply stating a situation, and naming what’s already been supportive, can be clarifying and helpful.
Once a month, I choose a question, and write both a response and a meditation. These make up Hey Jeff, a column available to paid subscribers.
Thank you.
THIS WEEK ON THE MIND BOD ADVENTURE POD
Mudita Nisker and Dan Clurman, authors of Let's Talk, An Essential Guide to Skillful Communication, have been teaching people how to communicate for decades. As Mudita notes, changing how you communicate can change your entire way of perceiving and relating to others. It is a profound practice, and one each of us is already involved in, so we may as well get better at it!
CEC Summer Retreat: Meditate! Celebrate! Activate!
August 2 - 5, 2024
Five Oaks Education and Retreat Centre, Ontario
Consciousness Explorers Club legendary summer retreat is back … Actually, this is not a retreat – it’s an advance! Jeff Warren,
, Erin Oke and others from the CEC Teaching Team will be your trusty guides.
More Care in the Tank