Looking for reader feedback!
plus another wave poem
I’ve been sharing my own journey with self-compassion all summer. I’d love to hear from you!
What does self-compassion mean to you?
What questions or hang ups do you have with practicing self-compassion in your own life?
Do you have any self-compassion resources to share?
Do you want to write a guest post? Send me your pitch/idea and I’d love to highlight your self-compassion story!
Please answer in the comment section, or if you would like to remain anonymous or prefer Google forms to Substack comments, click this link to submit your responses.
If you’re on Substack (or a blog, or IG) I’d love to link to your page. Just post a link to your preferred page in your comment/response.
I will compile everyone’s insight for a future post.
Thank you :)
***
This Sunday I have another poem for you. Let’s just call it “self-compassion adjacent” because I wrote it while trying to rest and take time for myself and treat myself kindly.
No one would begrudge Thoreau for yet another Walden Pond reflection. I live by the beach. Today I offer you yet another wave poem. I also experimented with recording audio of the poem for those of you who prefer to listen.
In which I write another wave poem
wait
wait
hustle
wait
wait
hustle
I lean over the pier’s edge
watch surfers bob and skim
waves crash
fog hovers
I exhale
triumphant
I rest
revel
relax
The next moment
I am gripped
Certain something is amiss
Certain I am missing out
Certain I don’t deserve this respite
Maybe
Maybe not?
My gaze turns back to the surfers
The wait the hustle the glide
the crash
the spluttering of salt water
the paddle back
only to begin the wait again.
waves bob and surfers skim
It’s only wasted if I waste it.
“It’s only wasted if I waste it.” Oof. Felt that right in the feels. I think my hang-ups with self compassion are subconscious. I know cognitively that practicing self compassion will only serve me, but there’s a dark belief under the surface that says I’m just letting myself off easy and that my self criticism is what’s propelling me forward.
Love the poem! One of my favorite images of self-compassion is holding yourself on your own lap. Like holding a kid who is upset until the hard feelings pass. Imagining myself large and compassionate enough to hold all the parts of me that are sad, irritated, unhappy, ragey, etc. just really works for me. I try to practice it at night when I’m sitting in my kids room as they fall asleep. Extending the same gentleness to myself that I TRY to offer my kids each day has been a huge shift for me.