Focusing Self-compassion on Limitations

December 11, 2012 By 1 Comment

I admit it: I’ve not bought a single Christmas gift yet. My husband, God bless him, has ordered a few things.  My guess is that Amazon is going to become my best friend over these next few weeks. My work schedule has been full as well as continuing to make doctor and physical therapy appointments and block off several whole days for injections. Oh, and my husband had some minor surgery this month, too.

There are only 15 more days until Christmas (all of them shopping days online!)

As I face both that deadline and my calendar, the core question for me is

 “How will I relate to my limitation?”

Will I slam myself for my inefficiency?

Will I extend compassion to my “to do” list?

Will I feel shame over the fact that my desk is currently also piled a foot high with papers? (okay, maybe 6 inches, but it’s a big desk) Or do I feel compassion and actually (gasp) give thanks for all the wonderful opportunities I have had this fall that have occupied my life and energy and left me with a full desk?

When I think of women who handled limitations well, my mind goes to Naomi and Ruth.

The limitations they faced were different than mine:

The ache of grief

Poverty

Cultural rejection as women and, for Ruth, as a Moabite

It is an interesting thing about human limitations: we connect, even across centuries, around them as we relate to the feelings that our inadequacies generate, regardless of the particulars or extremity of our limitations.

In that sense, maybe we aren’t so different…

I have not suffered the death of a husband and son; yet I have certainly ached over the limitations that spring from my own chronic pain.

I have never gone hungry and scavenged for food; yet like many middle-class Americans, I have felt inadequate, especially this time of year, as I am often aware of money as a limited resource.

I have never known the overwhelming limitations that Naomi and Ruth’s feminine souls placed on them religiously, culturally, and economically; but I have known the pain of having my thoughts dismissed and my voice not heard because I happen to be a woman.

As I look as the lives of my fore-mothers, I see enormous and active faith in the face of their limitations:

In the ache of grief, Naomi just kept moving, putting one foot in front of another, seeking God as she moved back to her homeland.  She was honest about her bitterness when she arrived: she both exercised her faith and owned her limitations, even her emotional ones.

In the face of poverty, Ruth did the same; she kept going.  Because God is God, she “just so happened” to glean in Boaz’ field…. and eventually became his bride. Her limitation turned to miraculous provision when her faith met the grace of God.

In the midst of severe limitations imposed by a cultural and religious context that separated the “ins” and the “outs” by heritage, God “broke” all God’s own rules when, through the compassion of the levirate provision  of Jewish law, the Moabite Ruth married Boaz and eventually became the grandmother of King David.  She is also one of four women mentioned in Jesus’ genealogy.

In the face of God’s grace, faith, and compassion, who are we to fear, rebuke, or judge our own limitations?   How about some self-compassion instead?

What limitation will you consider meeting with self-compassion instead of rejection, contempt, and judgment this year?

Filed Under: Advent, Bible stories, faith, feminine, jugdgment, Naomi, Ruth, voice, women Tagged With: , , , , , 1 Comment

Self-compassion and limitations

July 30, 2012 By 14 Comments

“The moments when we meet our limitations are often the times when we struggle the most with self-compassion.”

It has been an exciting week in the Davis household.

On Tuesday, we welcomed our first grand child, Georgia Lynn Burleson-Davis.  Isn’t she beautiful? Though 3 weeks earlier than we anticipated, her birth went marvelously well and her parents are taking spectacular care of her… so my husband and I are trying to support them in their many sleepless nights with meals and a few hours of holding and burping each day.

Also last week, I discovered that I have some pretty significant food sensitivities that may be a part of my ongoing, unresolved back pain. (read: high-motivation to restrict my diet) Though I have been off gluten for a while, I am now also eliminating all dairy, most grains, eggs, beef, pork, shellfish, bananas, grapes, tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, peppers, MSG and glutamates of all kinds.  So, I am not eating out at all, reading lots of labels, and cooking everything from scratch.

Add to that, my mother is scheduled for cataract surgery next week and so we began a ritual of three times daily eye drops last Saturday.  Thankfully, my brother and sister-in-law are coming to town to help with that one.

But in the meanwhile, I find myself in the midst of four generations of women needing extra care all at the same time.

I share all this not as a lament (okay, maybe there’s a little lament about the diet thing) but mostly as a way of illustrating the intimate connection between limitation and self-compassion.

The moments when we meet our limitations are often the times when we struggle the most with self-compassion.  We feel as if there is not room for softness or tenderness with ourselves. We tell ourselves that love means barreling through. We tell ourselves that we have a moral obligation to gut it out. We make the choice to exceed our limitations a “should” in an effort to avoid the humility that comes through facing and honoring our limitations. Many of us even make limitations shameful…. but that’s another story altogether. We try to actually create a different reality by forcing it upon ourselves, by the sheer strength of our will.  In my experience, such “man-handling” rarely works and generally carries a real though not immediate cost. Furthermore, refusing to respect our limitations and meet them with self-compassion it is not the pattern Jesus offers us or the one Scripture affirms for women.

  • Jesus took time to be in public, but also took time with friends and by himself.
    • 16 But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed. Luke 5
  • Jesus affirmed Mary‘s choice to sit instead of trying to serve and learn at the same time.
  • Hannah not only said “No” to Eli the priest, but also to her husband when he wanted her to go to the temple before she was ready.
  • Even in Naomi’s renaming of herself from Naomi meaning “pleasant” to “Mara” or “bitter,” I hear a willingness to own the emotional limitations of her grief.

In each example, we see self-compassion lived through an acceptance of human limitations. These stories invite us to learn the wisdom of living optimally and fully present to each moment rather than the less sustainable choice of living maximally, a choice that often leads to an exhausted, less-than-present version of ourselves.

So, living self-compassion for me means that this is my first blog in a week.  Though that is a disappointment to my plans and agendas, it’s an important victory in so many other ways.

Where are you being invited to face, respect, and meet your limitations with self-compassion rather than denial or a hard heart?

Filed Under: Bible stories, self-compassion, shame, women Tagged With: , , , 14 Comments