There's a reason more of us haven't checked perpetual self-kindness off the to-do list, aren't more habitually loving to ourselves when things fall apart, when it seems the only person to blame is ourselves, whether we've said the "wrong" thing in a tenuous relationship, forgotten an important date, or flown off the handle in a way we deem despicable and/or humiliating, and want nothing more than to bury our head in the sand.
There's a reason we aren't more kind.
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Conflict.
It happens.
No matter how much we tip toe... and walk on egg shells... and say all the right things... and pull all the right dance moves... still... it happens.
Conflict is an unavoidable part of life, and yet, so much suffering comes not from the skirmish itself, but from the added layer of "there's something wrong with me" that we pile on top of it, finding in conflict proof, yet again, of our defectiveness and not enoughness.
How, then, when conflict rears its head, might we portion out just a little more self-gentleness, a little more trust, a little more mercy for ourselves amid the madness?
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This shame stuff – it matters.
In our psyches…
In our relationships...
And in our world…
It keeps us small, revealing only a half-version of ourselves -- our bright hearts, tender humanity, and courageous dreams locked away in the closet, collecting dust for years on end.
It keeps us from recognizing and opening to the love-filled relationships that are our birthright.
It keeps us defended and in fear of acknowledging and talking openly about racism, sexism, and all the other isms that degrade our own and one another's humanity.
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Sometimes, we are wrong. Sometimes, the stories we’ve been telling ourselves for years, all our lives – if not for generations – are simply not true.
You know the ones. “I’m too this. I’m too that.” “I’m not this or that enough.” The one that says, “People don’t care. They’re not to be trusted.” And the story etched deep into so many of our hearts – the one that says we’re alone.
By a stroke of luck, or grace, or simply stupid courage, I recently learned I was wrong.
This article was published online. READ MORE AT SHANTI GENERATION.
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Shame: the belief not that you have done something bad, but that you are bad. The belief that you are somehow genetically defective, unworthy, deficient of and utterly lacking of that badge that seemingly everyone else was lucky enough to earn—the one called “normality.”
Ironically, it’s the ubiquity of shame that stands out more than its rarity.
This article was published in the elephant journal. Click here to continue reading.
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For anyone who’s ever been called “ugly.”
For anyone who’s ever looked in the mirror and thought, “Not enough.”
I was starting to fall in love. Roger was funny and smart, quirky and spiritual. We’d go on unusually simple dates—just sitting on a rock, or in my car—contemplating the meaning of life, our dreams, our fears. He laughed at my jokes, was comfortable in silence, and had a softness to his voice that endeared me to him. He seemed so sweet, so receptive. I trusted him.
Until one night we were sitting close together on a bench in one of my favorite parks in Berkeley, when he told me he was struggling with something. I wanted to be both courageous and supportive, and so asked him to tell me.
This article was published online. READ MORE ON ELEPHANT JOURNAL.
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We didn’t make this stuff up.
The inner voices that rattle us daily –”Didn’t accomplish enough.” “Not outspoken enough.” “Not beautiful enough.” “Not smart enough.” “Not powerful enough.”– we didn’t make this stuff up.
The epidemic of shame that shapes our world, our culture, our daily lives, our experience of the world… creating a sense of isolation and chronic “not enough-ness” — we inherited this stuff.
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One of the dangers of taking on a practice with a name like “Nonviolent Communication” is that we may start to run an inner soundtrack that sounds something like, “You’re supposed to be nice, Marina … all the time… to everybody…” dictators, mosquitoes, and scowling meter maids alike. ”Be nice, don’t get mad, keep it in, and everybody will be fine.” “Nonviolent” can thus be heard as an order to “shut up,” to censor, to hide.
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I have sworn up and down in life that I would never title a blog "X number of Steps to Whatever," because I have always wanted to honor the complexity of life, and all the human emotions of irritation, frustration, stuckness, doubt, etc. that arise in the course of our everyday lives.
When I see other "X Steps to Blah Blah" articles, I ignore them, because I assume that the author is pretending to be super-human, will never admit to peeing in the shower, much less the challenges that come with being a human who struggles around desires for acceptance, belonging, connection, self-expression, etc.
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When, if ever, is shamelessness a form of self-deceit?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been an advocate of shamelessness.
It showed up in smaller ways at first: an insistence on wearing brightly colored mis-matched socks all through elementary school, followed by a dogged determination to start a paper recycling program in my high school, despite the groans and rolling eyes of my teachers, who preferred not to be bothered. My favorite T-shirt read, “Why be normal?” – a motto that I follow to this day...
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