Kindness Begins With … Who, Me?

Posted on February 13, 2015 by Donna Cameron

“Self-compassion is simply giving the same kindness to ourselves that we would give to others.” (Christopher Germer)

In the previous post, we talked about the need to be kind to ourselves if we are going to be able to give genuine kindness to others and to receive kindnesses. The challenge is to feel worthy and not to listen to that voice—ours now, but probably once that of a parent or teacher—who says putting ourselves first is always selfish.

Selfish and unselfish is a polarity we must manage, recognizing that there are times when our need is greater and other times when someone else must come first, and still other times when putting someone else’s need above our own is our greatest need.

“Self-care” is not a term that will mean the same thing for everyone. It’s also a term that can get a bad rap. For some, self-care may be analogous to selfishness, or self-absorption, and taken to an extreme, like anything else, it ceases to serve us. It’s no fun spending time with someone who has nothing of interest to talk about but herself, or anyone above the age of eight who still believes that the universe revolves entirely around him. Yet, those people are all around us and they are as exhausting as they are unwelcome. We can’t change them, but as a gesture of kindness to ourselves, we can limit the time we have to spend with them.

Let’s look at a few more methods we humans have devised for being kind to ourselves:

Recognizing Boundaries

I look at boundaries as something like values. My friend Lynn describes values as “decisions we make in advance” and I think boundaries are much the same. They are the demarcation of what I will and will not do, and what I will and will not allow as I interact with others. They are both external and internal. External boundaries protect us from invasions of our space, our emotions and beliefs, and even our possessions. Internal boundaries help us manage our time, our emotions, and our impulses. Without a sense of our own boundaries we can deplete ourselves by trying excessively to please, serve or fix, by tolerating abuse, byaccepting criticism without evaluating it, by overscheduling our lives ‘til we reach exhaustion, or by taking on other people’s baggage. Learning to both establish and hold to our boundaries is a big element of self-kindness.

Forgiving

As someone who has done her share of stupid and thoughtless things, I have finally learned that continuing to carry them around with me in the form of regrets and self-recriminations serves no one … and it’s a dreadfully heavy weight. That doesn’t mean ignoring them, but rather learning from them, forgiving myself, and letting them go. There is a quote of unknown origin that says it well: Your past mistakes are meant to guide you, not define you.

Small Indulgences

Somewhat related to the satisfaction triggers we talked about earlier, “small indulgences” is a term I first heard from trend-watcher Faith Popcorn. She was referring to the tiny “affordable luxuries” that we allow ourselves—they don’t break the budget and they offer a quick and easy respite from stress. In the commercial world, Starbucks is the embodiment of a source for small indulgences, having convinced us that the answer to our immediate need is a caramel macchiato, a chai tea, or simply a good cup of Ethiopian blend. But we can find small indulgences all around us: a piece of dark, artisan chocolate … a magazine we enjoy but don’t usually spend five dollars to buy … a visit to a museum or library … a massage … just about anything by a couple of guys named Ben and Jerry … or maybe it’s buying that new bestseller we’ve been wanting to read, rather than waiting months to get it from the library.

The barriers that prevent us from being kind to ourselves are generally the same obstacles that keep us from being kind to others: time, fear, fatigue, apathy, obliviousness…. We’ll be exploring some of these in upcoming posts.

If we are to have a long-term perspective on compassion, as the Dalai Lama encourages, that means recognizing that kindness begins with self and radiates outward. Unless we replenish ourselves periodically, we cannot offer our gifts to others and to a universe that is in dire need of our kindness.

What’s the kindest thing you could do for yourself right this minute? What’s stopping you?

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” (Anna Quindlen)

Kindness Begins With … Who?

Posted on February 10, 2015 by Donna Cameron

“Self-care is never a selfish act – it is simply good stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer others. Anytime we can listen to true self and give the care it requires, we do it not only for ourselves, but for the many others whose lives we touch.” (Parker Palmer)

I can’t effectively extend kindness to others or graciously receive kindness from them if I don’t have a solid relationship of kindness with one very important person: me.

Seems obvious, but how many of us are really pretty mean to that person we live and breathe with 24/7? Sometimes we’re downright abusive; other times, we’re indifferent or neglectful.

I’m going to employ one of the most overworked analogies around—one we encounter every time we take to the friendly skies: “Should there be a loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the overhead compartment … be sure to secure your own mask before assisting others.”

We’ve heard it a thousand times, not just from our amiable flight attendant, but it is part of the repertoire of every motivational speaker on the circuit. Yes, it’s overworked and trite, but, as so many overworked and trite things are, it’s also true.

Think about it in its original and literal setting: If you were a child or someone who might need assistance donning an oxygen mask, would you prefer to get that help from someone breathing calmly and offering the assurance that this is a minor inconvenience which we will handle together, or from a wild-eyed martyr who may pass out at any moment. I’ll take the former, thank you.

And in more earthbound circumstances, I find it more pleasurable to receive a kindness from someone who is steady and self-assured than from someone whose attempt at kindness seems to be born more out of desperation or obligation than of genuine caring. And I find it easier to extend kindness to someone who is able to receive, than to someone who can’t because they don’t feel worthy.

There is not a one-size-fits-all method of being kind to ourselves. What works for some won’t for others. Let’s explore just a few:

Knowing When to Say Yes to Saying No

Saying yes to our own lives sometimes means knowing how to say no to others. When we give so much to others that we have nothing left to give ourselves, we must follow the advice of the Dalai Lama: “…for the sake of everyone … withdraw and restore yourself. The point is to have a long-term perspective.” Likewise, there are times when we need to speak a gentle “no” to ourselves, when we are poised to embark on a self-destructive action, or when we simply need permission to get off the merry-go-round.

Margot Silk Forrest, author of A Short Course in Kindness, offers a wonderful list of 42 ways to say no. Here are just a few. You’ll find the whole, handy list on her website:

I wish I could help you out, but I’m overextended/overcommitted right now.
Not in this lifetime!
The part that wants to make you happy wants to say yes, but the rest of me won the vote. I’ll pass.

Changing Our Self-Talk

How many of us say things to ourselves that we would never say to another human being? We call ourselves stupid, clumsy, ugly, fat. We criticize our slightest error. We tell ourselves that we don’t deserve the good things that come our way, and that we do deserve the bad. If we happen to look in the mirror and notice that the person looking back at us is looking pretty hot today, we immediately look for the flaw: check out that hair, brushed it with a cattle prod, did you? We need to notice when we’re engaging in verbal self-abuse and change it on the spot: Dahling, you look magnificent! Come, let the world see how beautiful you are!

Finding Our Own Satisfaction Triggers

Everybody has different self-care activators, and they are as diverse as the population is: reading, exercise, bubble baths, being in nature, listening to music, writing, walking the dog or petting the cat, romance, travel, swimming, tennis, meditation, spending time with friends, spending time alone. These are just a few. What are your satisfaction triggers? We all need to recognize the activities that replenish and re-energize us and then activate them with some frequency. If we don’t take care of ourselves, who will?

Self-care and self-kindness is a big issue. In the next post, we’ll look at a few more means of being kind to that VIP who is us, and we’ll talk about what gets in the way. Please share your own ah-has and thoughts about self-kindness. What happens when you don’t practice kindness with yourself? What do you do to be kind to yourself?

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.” (Dr. Seuss)

Kindness Counters Indifference … It Requires Engagement and Action

Posted on February 6, 2015 by Donna Cameron

“They say philosophers and wise men are indifferent. Wrong. Indifference is a paralysis of the soul, a premature death.” (Anton Chekhov)

While the opposite of kindness is, logically, unkindness, I think equally opposite is indifference. One cannot be kind if caring is absent. Unless we are willing to suspend our spectator status and jump into our lives, we will probably wallow in a state of relatively comfortable indifference.

And indifference and kindness cannot coexist.

An anthem to indifference, entitled, “Outside of a Small Circle of Friends,” was written and sung by Phil Ochs in the 1960s, in response to the horrific murder of a young woman named Kitty Genovese in New York. Dozens of people were awakened by her screams, and even watched from their windows as she was attacked and stabbed over a prolonged period. Yet none tried to intervene or even picked up the phone to call the police. It seems unbelievable that no one would step up to help in any way. But they didn’t want to get involved; they couldn’t be bothered; they were afraid; perhaps they assumed someone else had already taken action.

Ochs’ song satirizes our indifference not just to a crime such as the Genovese murder, but also to poverty, inequality, and the needs of others. Like so many of Ochs’ songs of protest (and he was a master of the protest ballad), the song is outdated now, too strident and a bit corny. But it still has a bite.

Today’s “anthem” to indifference might be a one-word phrase that is generally delivered with an accompanying shrug and a roll of the eyes: “Whatever…”

There is so much packed into that little word: who cares? … I can’t be bothered … what’s the big deal? … so what?

“Whatever,” delivered with the accompanying tone and gestures of indifference, is not a kind word. At best, it’s a lazy word; at worst, a door slamming on potential kindness.

We learn indifference and phrases like “whatever” from the people around us. Children, especially, model what they see, and from the time they are very young, they see a great deal of indifference. But just as indifference is learned, so is kindness. The earlier we start learning kindness, the sooner we are able to practice it, thus staving off indifference.

Teaching Kindness

According to neuroscience expert Patty O’Grady, PhD, of the University of Tampa, children can learn kindness in school through the teaching of empathy. She cites many classroom experiences that can demonstrate and reinforce kindness, among them simple acts such as charting kind actions, noticing kindnesses, teaching tolerance, and group participation in activities that spread kindness.

In an online article on the Psychology Today website, O’Grady notes: “The neuroscience and social science research is clear: kindness changes the brain by the experience of kindness. Children and adolescents do not learn kindness by only thinking about it and talking about it. Kindness is best learned by feeling it so that they can reproduce it. Kindness is an emotion that students feel and empathy is a strength that they share.

Kindness and empathy are an antidote to indifference. We cannot force kindness, any more than we can force love or respect. But, the sooner we can replace shrugs with caring, and “whatever” with a smile and a genuine response, we will be on the way to countering indifference and engaging in the precious life that is only ours to live.

“Indifference.” Jerusha surprised herself with the answer. “Indifference, Gundhalinu, is the strongest force in the universe. It makes everything it touches meaningless. Love and hate don’t stand a chance against it. It lets neglect and decay and monstrous injustice go unchecked. It doesn’t act, it allows. And that’s what gives it so much power.” (Joan D. Vinge, The Snow Queen)

On the Receiving End of Kindness…

Posted on February 3, 2015 by Donna Cameron

“One who knows how to show and to accept kindness will be a friend better than any possession.” (Sophocles)

[As I wrote this post, I had the distinct impression that this might be a gender-specific issue. So to any men who happen to read it, take what you will, and perhaps there will be something that you can relate to. Accept that you are wise, and handsome, and remarkably accomplished….]

Even if we don’t have the resources to give all that we would like to give, we always have the capacity to receive graciously. It sounds so simple, but it can be surprisingly hard. Think of the times someone tried to give you something and you demurred—perhaps because you didn’t think they could afford it, or you didn’t feel worthy, or it was simply your initial reaction to an awkward situation. Maybe the gift wasn’t something you wanted; perhaps you didn’t want to feel indebted. Or maybe you are among the cynical who wonder what’s the catch?

Did your refusal of their offer please them, or did it disappoint? In retrospect, would a gracious thank-you have made both of you happier and immensely more comfortable?

Giving is such a pleasurable act. Yet we often deny our friends and acquaintances—and even strangers—the joy and satisfaction of giving by being such terrible receivers.

And the gift doesn’t have to be something material. How often do we devalue the gift of another’s words by refusing their compliments? We deflect kind words about our appearance by saying, “No, I look terrible! My hair needs cutting and I need to lose ten pounds, and look, I’ve lost a button on this shirt.” Do you really think they complimented us just to hear us point out all our flaws? I seriously doubt it.

How much better to respond with, “How nice of you to say so,” or “Thanks for your kind words, they make me feel great!”

In his book, Imperfect Alternatives, Dr. Dale Turner quotes a friend who chided him for brushing off a compliment: “When someone gives you a compliment in words, don’t disagree or minimize what he says, for words are gifts, too. Accept them gratefully, even though you don’t think you deserve them….. A compliment is a gift not to be thrown away carelessly unless you want to hurt the giver.”

We also reject compliments on our achievements by down-playing them. We say, “No, it really wasn’t anything special. Anybody could have done it. I was lucky.” It’s as if we are saying, No, you dolt. Can’t you see I’m really an incompetent nincompoop? It’s always great to share credit—that’s another form of kindness (not to mention decency)—but minimizing the overall accomplishment serves no one.

How much better to say, “Thank you, I’m really pleased with the result, too,” or “Yes! Don’t we have a fabulous team!?”

As I pose the question of why accepting compliments is something most of us aren’t very good at, I realize this is a much larger issue for women than for men. When was the last time you complimented a man on his new suit and he responded by saying that it makes his butt look big? Doesn’t happen.

Most of the men I interact with know how to accept compliments about their work. Hell, they expect kudos … and good for them for having those expectations.

A lot of women were raised with the direct or indirect instruction to hide their light under a bushel. Our mothers told us to be modest. Our teachers encouraged humility and restraint. Somebody else kept mumbling that the meek will inherit the earth.

Let’s Reframe Our Response to Compliments

Perhaps if we reframe our response to gifts and compliments we can learn to receive them. Instead of questioning whether we deserve them, or fearing that we will appear conceited, or that we are getting more than our share, let’s stop thinking about ourselves and think instead about the giver. Think about the kindness we can extend to them by accepting their gift with grace.

Why don’t we all set an intention of receiving compliments graciously for the next 21 days and see how that feels. No demurring. No downplaying. No false modesty. And while we’re at it, let’s extend some compliments. I don’t know anyone who couldn’t use a few. Do you?

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” (Leo Buscaglia)

The Power of the Pause

Posted on January 30, 2015 by Donna Cameron

“Human freedom involves our capacity to pause, to choose the one response toward which we wish to throw our weight.” (Rollo May)

Between Stimulus and Response

Some time ago, a friend happened to be looking at the huge collection of quotations I have tacked to a bulletin board that covers one wall of my den. Inexplicably, she started to cry. Then she grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote down this quotation from Stephen Covey:

“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

“That’s it exactly,” she explained. “Whenever I am tempted to take a drink, I need to pause in that space between stimulus and response. If I stop and think about it, I won’t drink. If I don’t, I slip and have a drink.” I knew my friend was in AA and that sobriety was still a struggle for her.

I looked at the quotation again and saw how many things it applied to. Not just alcohol, but overeating, smoking, spending… or any number of actions we take automatically with little or no thought. We allow an addiction or a learned response to overtake our free will. And, as Covey describes, each time we don’t give in to the reflex response, we grow and claim our own precious freedom a little more.

I think his wise words are just as relevant to kindness. Yesterday in a parking lot, I saw a man blast his horn at a woman whose car was blocking his exit. When she didn’t move quickly, he blasted it again, and then a third time.

Admittedly, some people are just Bozos, and they always will be. But I’d like to think that if he had paused, perhaps he would have chosen a different response. Maybe he would have shrugged and looked at his watch and said, “I’ve got time.” Or maybe he would have tried for a quick tap on the horn to alert her to his car, instead of three sharp and aggressive blasts.

I know I’ve been guilty of speaking sharply in response to a real or perceived stimulus of rudeness or bad behavior. But that’s their problem. It’s only mine if I let it be, if I let their Bozo-ness provoke me to similar behavior. When I react in kind, it doesn’t improve the situation and it doesn’t make me feel any better.

I also know that when I snap back at someone (more often than not, my spouse), it’s because I’m tired, feeling overwhelmed, inadequate, or—I admit it—hungry. A timely pause can keep the snapping-turtle in her shell, and maintain harmony. It’s one of those lessons we learn and relearn over and over, until finally the pause becomes the automatic response. At least I hope it does.

There’s a reason why our mothers used to tell us to stop and count to ten when we got angry. It’s the power of the pause.

The Rotary Club has the right idea (sudden segue, but stay with me).

Rotarians have a four-question test that helps them decide whether and how to act or speak. Before responding, they consider:

Is it the truth?
Is it fair to all concerned?
Will it build goodwill and friendship?
Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

If the answer is no, they keep silent. Wise people, those Rotarians.

A pause is not a vacant space. It’s a place of enormous potential and growth. It’s where we choose who we will be in this moment, and the next, and the next.

“Kindness. Easy to do. Easy not to do. Choose the latter, no one will notice. Choose the former and lives may change.” (Julian Bowers Brown‏)

A Year of Living Kindly

adventures in trying to live a life of kindness

Category Archives: Kindness