Beautiful, Messy Humans
/Dear friends,
I've been thinking a lot about a video I often use in sessions focused on compassion. In the video, a high school student tells other students that she's taking pictures of things she finds beautiful; she films their responses. The reactions range from disbelief and embarrassment to joy and gratitude.
Lately I've received a lot of affirmations from various people and I'm noticing my response spans the range that the video portrays. Sometimes I respond with joy and gratitude, fully owning my light.
Recently I had a reaction that looked and sounded a lot like anger. Because I wasn't in the person's presence when I received the beautiful words (they came via text), the other person didn't experience the wrath that spewed from me.
In the video one young woman responds to the declaration that she is beautiful with "I'll cut you in the face...SHUT UP." My own reaction included expletives and stomping around. The volatility of my reaction to kindness took me by surprise.
After I settled down, I took some time to wonder: What exactly was that all about? Using Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication as my guide, I discovered a few things:
I started by asking myself if it was the messages themselves or something else that hadn't worked for me. I realized that, in general, I really did want and appreciate the messages.
However, the timing of the messages didn't work for me. I was out of town and really wanted to be present to what was happening where I was.
When I received the messages, I felt annoyed, torn, and beneath those, I felt ashamed.
The person was reaching out to connect. Not wanting to split attention between where I was and wasn't, I wasn't meeting the person with reciprocal care.
I also felt scared of losing connection if I didn't respond in kind and quickly. Mind you, the person was not asking for and explicitly said they didn't expect an immediate response. But the story of what I "had to do" was still alive in me.
Taking the bigger view of my interior landscape, I could offer myself some care, "Oh, Cory, here you are in aaaallllllll your messy humanness." Offering myself some understanding, my body and emotions settled and I could then engage in a care-filled conversation with the other person.
When we spoke, I named the above, stating both what had worked for me (the kinds messages) and what hadn't (the timing). I also stated clearly that I wasn't saying that they had done anything wrong.
The other person had some feelings about it, too, but because I had started without accusation, neither of us hurled shame and blame at each other, and we were able to move through the conversation with mutual care. It opened the door to negotiation about how we could communicate in ways that worked for both of us.
I gotta tell ya, both the self-exploration and the conversation felt like victories.
There was a time when I'd have stopped at the tantrum-like anger and would have, in all likelihood, thrown away the connection, justifying it with stories about what and who was wrong (obviously the other person).
I'm glad it didn't go that way. I'm learning and integrating the tools I teach. I'm sure I have times ahead of me where my practice is less skillful, but this time I got it right.
Thank goodness.
Blessings,
Cory