PEBBLE
Beating yourself up doesn’t make you stronger. It leaves you bruised. Being kind to yourself isn’t about ignoring your weaknesses, it’s about giving yourself permission to learn from your disappointments. We grow by embracing our shortcomings, not by punishing them.
~Adam Grant, shared by Darcy in CA (via her friend Laura K’s awesome year-end compilation)
BOULDER
You’ve just come in from a rainstorm
you can’t expect to be
immediately dry warm and comfortable
but you can do the little things
take off the heavy clothing;
turn on the coffee pot
wrap yourself in a blanket
one small thing at a time
~healing is a process.
~Whitney Hanson, shared by Carla in Virginia
PONDER
I recently picked up a useful distinction Dr. Kristin Neff makes between two kinds of self compassion. In a conversation with Dan Harris on his 10% Happier podcast (see episode 894), she remarked that if compassion is about alleviating suffering, then tender self compassion takes us in the direction of ACCEPTING ourselves as imperfect humans, while Fierce self compassion moves us more towards taking action and CHANGING things.
The pebble reminds us that fierce compassion doesn’t need to be brutal, while the boulder makes the case that knowing when to unleash the tender side of self compassion can make all the difference.
Sometimes I catch myself wanting a shortcut through the storm: a quick fix, a neat resolution, or at least a fast-forward button. When that doesn’t materialize, my inner critic pipes up with, “Well, if you had handled things better, you wouldn’t be in this mess.” That’s when both of these quotes nudge me to pause, take a breath, and remember: healing and growth are not sprints. They’re slow, winding paths with plenty of rest stops along the way.
Of course, patience with the process doesn’t come naturally to most of us. We want to dry off now, not in an hour; we want the lesson learned and the mistake erased. But the real magic often happens in those in-between spaces, the moments when we’re still a little soggy and uncomfortable yet choosing to take the next small step—pouring a warm cup of coffee, speaking a kind word to ourselves, finding just enough strength to try again tomorrow.
What I like about framing compassion as both tender and fierce is that it gives us options. Some days, fierce compassion helps us set a boundary or take a needed risk. Other days, tender compassion helps us soften into the truth that “one small thing at a time” is plenty. Either way, we’re moving forward—not by shoving ourselves toward perfection, but by steadily nurturing the person we are becoming.
Which kind of self-compassion do you most need right now—tender acceptance or fierce action—and how might you practice it today?
Peace,
Paul