Compassion ripples…
I imagine that if you are reading this, you are wanting life to be more wonderful. You are perhaps wanting to turn away from expressions which might cause pain in other people, and wanting instead to express yourself in such a way as to enrich and honour yourself and others.
The magic of compassion is that it ripples through our lives and the lives of others as we practice it.
If this is why you are still reading my words, then I want to celebrate with you. This is wonderful, exciting, and uplifting to know. Your journey touches me and warms my heart. Isn't life wonderful?
I want to share with you how small steps in compassionate talk can have large impacts in your life personally and beyond to the lives of others, to groups of others, to institutions of others and so on.
Below is a piece I wrote about a recent interaction I had with my daughter. I am still learning to express myself compassionately. And, it is often most difficult with the people that you love the most. So I'd like you to witness how it worked for me, even as I struggle to include it in my every day.
The other day my adult daughter asked if she could come with my partner and I on a weekend trip away. The purpose of the trip was a research trip for a project we are working on. While I loved the idea of my daughter coming with us, this request was hard to hear for me. The reason for this was that I knew that the trip was for a very specific purpose, requiring discussions and decisions between my partner and I. Thinking about this now, I feel torn. Torn between time with my daughter and time with my partner on the project.
Feeling anxious and worried, I didn’t want to tell her, “No, you can’t come”, because I also didn’t want to explain that the trip was really a private trip for my partner and I. I was in an awkward spot.
I really struggle giving ‘hard to hear’ messages, like saying, ‘No’. I don’t like my needs being the reason behind causing conflict with others. I don’t like upsetting people. So, I started worrying.
To resolve this conflict, I turned to my typical strategy of finding a reason which would soften the message and maybe deflect from the truth about the trip…. that it was a private trip. So after a rush of anxiety and without any reflection on what was going on for me – without any self connection, I said, "That’s a great idea, Darling. But I’m just not sure it will work as we are staying with friends in Canberra on the way home who won’t have enough space for the three of us".
And she said, "That’s OK. I can stay with my friends in Canberra".
I didn’t know what to say. I was lost for words… so I kinda mumbled, “Oh, OK then”.
At this point, I was snookered. My ‘softening’ strategy didn’t work!
I then removed myself from the conversation and decided I had to work out what was going on for me. So I engaged in some self-empathy. What was I feeling? What was I needing? Why did I say what I said?
Tuning into my feelings and needs, I sensed my ‘flight’ response. In fact, that was exactly what I did. I left the conversation in a hurry. I left because I was afraid of ‘saying the wrong thing’, I was afraid that I would cause conflict and then suffer for it. My internal self-talk to myself was,
When I remember thinking that there wasn’t enough space for the three of us, I am feeling anxious and scared because I need acceptance and understanding. I am trying to maintain acceptance while imparting a ‘hard to hear’ message. Recognising my anxiety and needs for acceptance and understanding settled my nervous system enough to allow me to give myself some compassion. I could see myself as human, just trying to meet my needs. Sadly though, my strategy for meeting the needs wasn’t very successful.
So I made a request of myself to try again but this time to express myself honestly with vulnerability by explaining that I wasn’t being honest in the way that serves me and my connection with my daughter. I wasn’t ‘showing up’ honestly.
I went back to my daughter and said,
“Do you mind if I try again? I want to be honest about what’s going on for me. I find it hard to say truthfully what the reason is, if I think that it might cause hurt or pain. But honesty matters to me, so I want to explain again”.
But before I could express my request, my daughter said,
“I don’t have to come, Mum, if you don’t want me to. Just say it. I’d prefer you to be straight with me”.
She already was onto me!
So, I agreed to be straight with her. I said,
“When I remember you asking to come with us, right now I felt torn and worried. That’s because our weekend trip is really a private trip as Tony and I need space and privacy to make some difficult decisions about the project. I’m wondering how that is to hear? “
And she said,
“Sure, Mum. Your first explanation was weird. I appreciate your honesty. I’m happy about not going.”
I couldn’t believe it. With some reflection, self-empathy and honest self expression, I maintained connection with my daughter AND achieved my needs for acceptance, privacy and space. I was happy and felt the weight of the burden of worry lift. For me, this is the magic of compassionate talk.
And it ripples... My children are now interested in and learning how to communicate differently.