Caring, compassion and 80s childhood
You’d think caring and compassion would be no-brainers for a counsellor. Surely that’s why we do it, why we want to reach out to people experiencing distress and help them to find ways out of their pain. And yes, in many ways that’s true, for me. But in a culture which often focuses on individualism and competition, it can be hard to let that compassion fully out into the light of day.
For me, I blame the fact that Margaret Thatcher became prime minister when I was two. Ok, I’m being glib, but it does symbolise the message of those times in the 80s: individualistic, go-getting, it’s down to you, ‘put the work in and you can achieve anything’ (and if you don’t you’ve only yourself to blame).
Thinking of others seemed like foolishness, a weakness, something that would leave you wide open to being taken advantage of and trodden down by others on their way to success. And those struggling? It was all their fault; they obviously hadn’t worked hard enough. Just get up earlier, put in the extra hours, be assertive, stretch your comfort zone.
Nowadays, I recognise all the ways in which the systems we live in conspire to give some people a leg-up and keep other people down. All the forms of privilege that make life easier for some and tougher for others. I can balance a sense of personal responsibility for life with the fact that we exist in communities and cultures. Particularly since the Covid-19 lockdowns, I’ve felt a much stronger need to reach out to others and have a community around me. A strange admission for an introvert, but I found I actually rather like people and miss them when I can’t see them! (Not too many at once though, let’s not get carried away.)
But I still have to actively make space for my feelings of compassion and care for both myself and others. If I try to visualise that compassionate part of me, it looks like a little woodland sprite flying beneath a big beech tree. A delicate creature with a gentle expression on its face and a sense of wonder about the world around it – but who is ready to dart back into the shelter of a dark crevice at the roots of the tree at the first sign of any threat.
When I see a younger generation engaging in self-compassion and self-care – willing to stand up for their needs, their wellbeing, their mental health, I think ‘good on them’. But I see them being labelled ‘snowflakes’ and part of me is still caught up in that way of thinking. Maggie is still lurking on my shoulder, frowning.
I’m working on putting her in her place. Starting with caring for myself. I’m trying to develop a habit of checking in with myself at times during the day and asking myself, ‘What do I need right now?’ Sometimes it’s as simple as a glass of water, a breath of fresh air, a chat with my chickens. Other times, it’s more complicated – a day walking in the hills, a better work-life balance, to have a difficult conversation with someone – and I may not be able to do it straight away but I can recognise it rather than ignoring my needs completely.
I’m also making space for gentler voices in my life to counteract that harsh, uncaring voice I’ve internalised. Reading books by the late Buddhist master Thich Nhat Hanh. Listening to podcasts from monastics and lay people at his Plum Village monastery (you can download an app). Searching out mentors who offer kinder and more connection-led ways of promoting my businesses. Seeking out or making opportunities to connect with other like-minded folk, people I can feel safe to be myself with.
If you would like support in exploring a harsh inner critic or negative self-talk, attending to your self-care or making relationships more heart-led and authentic, you may like to consider counselling. There’s more info on my approach on here and you can get in touch to arrange an introductory conversation.