Violence Fatigue and Self-Compassion

"This is a moment of suffering. Suffering is Part of being human. May I be kind to myself."

Remember that time, a handful of years ago, when there was a worldwide pandemic? Where were you situated in the world? I was a mental health provider working with patients with chronic medical conditions. I had quickly learned the ins and outs of secure online video platforms, and I was getting to know my patients in a new way as visited with them online. I got to see them in their everyday contexts, their wallpaper and wall hangings, the clutter in their homes, and their bedding (some could only lay down while we visited). There was a kind of intimacy I had never experienced with patients, as I knew that they were impacted by the same major community stressor - COVID-19. I, like them, was thinking about how to provide the best support for my children whose schooling I was now co-proctoring from home with my partner. I, like them, was worried about my loved ones who were isolated as they sheltered in place. It was during this time that I, like many others, watched an 8 minute viral video of a man named George Floyd killed in plain sight by an individual whose professional objective was supposedly keeping the peace. I felt nothing close to peace during much of this time.

I enjoyed a long list of privileges and on paper my situation was ideal. I transferred much of my work to home where I could practice from a quiet location with excellent internet connection. I had a stay-at-home partner to worked with the kids to turn the library into a school room. My family lived nearby and were generally all in relatively good health. So, I was confused about why I found myself alternating between overwhelm and numbness. Each morning, in an effort to reconnect with myself and humanity I would step out of my home and walk a well-traveled 45-minute square shaped route around two neighborhoods adjacent to mine. While I walked I felt the sun on my skin, enjoyed the light dancing through the trees, listened to the birds. And at some point I would put my ear buds in my ears and turn on a 5 minute audio track entitled "Self Compassion Break". The script goes like this:

Think of a situation in your life that is difficult, that is causing you stress. Call the situation to mind, and see if you can actually feel the stress and emotional discomfort in your body.

Now, say to yourself:

1. This is a moment of suffering

That’s mindfulness. Other options include:

• This hurts.

• Ouch.

• This is stress.

2. Suffering is a part of life

That’s common humanity. Other options include:

• Other people feel this way.

• I’m not alone.

• We all struggle in our lives.

Now, put your hands over your heart, feel the warmth of your hands and the gentle touch of your hands on your chest. Or adopt the soothing touch you discovered felt right for you.

3. May I be kind to myself

You can also ask yourself, “What do I need to hear right now to express kindness to myself?” Is there a phrase that speaks to you in your particular situation, such as:

• May I give myself the compassion that I need

• May I learn to accept myself as I am

• May I forgive myself

• May I be strong

• May I be patient

This practice can be used any time of day or night and will help you remember to evoke the three aspects of self-compassion when you need it most.

Sometimes I struggled with one of the steps and needed to pause the audio track while I worked through it. Step one. I found my body resisting, as I attempted to look at my suffering head on. What is stressful in this moment? Where do I feel it in my body? A clenched stomach or tight jaw? I couldn't always find it immediately. Didn't always want to look at it. Other times, I wanted to skip past step two. This was the step that required me to acknowledge that my own suffering, no matter how big or small, offers me a free membership into the human family. Could I really accept that others in my city, country and across the world had previously, were currently, or would at some time in the future experience the same clenched stomach? The same tight jaw? The same heat in their shoulders and neck? That fear and confusion and insecurity were not unique to me? If I could, then I could begin to feel a sense of belonging that would start to soften my muscles and begin to open my heart just a bit. On some occasions it was step three, the last step, that tripped me up. How could I truly be kind to myself? Did I deserve that in a world so full of unfairness and in the midst of all I enjoyed? What did I need and did I have it in me to give it to myself? So I slowed it all down. I mean really slowed it down. Sometimes the 5 minute track took a good thirty minutes to make it through.

I don't think I'm the only one who struggles to find myself within a world full of chaos and grief; who thinks, "Who am I to be thinking about myself at all when there are so many others in more need than me?" But listen. Here is a truth: We each have the capacity to give ourselves empathy better than anyone. Who better than me to give myself compassion when the world is on fire? It isn't anyone else's job. And I know intimately my own suffering - how it feels in my body, how it showed up in my interactions with the world. Suffering - even my own - is worthy of compassion. It has to be. So, this daily practice steadied me during the Spring of 2020.

As I type, I am experiencing a kind of flashback to that time period. In just the last few weeks, several violent events have happened very close to two of my previous homes in the USA. The kind that rock communities and make world news. These, within the backdrop of unrest occurring around the world. I recognize it - the same confusion and fear that connects me with my patients with whom I meet virtually (this time I'm meeting my American patients from my home across the ocean). I am watching people I know experiencing "violence fatigue" and a kind of restless drive to maintain hope while the anger and overwhelm threaten to engulf them. Here I am, struggling again to cope with the pain of seeing friends in my home towns, along with people I don't know at all across the world, suffering. I am suffering, too. And I am wondering again if it can really be true that our suffering, no matter how big or small, offers us each a free membership into the human family. It has to be.

And so, to any reading this, consider these three statements. They aren't questions. They are facts. See if you can let them into your mind and heart: 1. "This is a moment of suffering." (It is no more or less than that.) 2. "Suffering is part of being human." (If our ancestors could do it, we can too.) 3. "We can be kind to ourselves." (And in so doing we free ourselves up to do our part to make the world a better, safer, more just place.)   We can't afford to be indefinitely fatigued by this violence around us. May we each soften into these truths that a practice of self-compassion can offer.