The Reality Slap

by Russ Harris

  ‘Yes,’ your mind might be saying, ‘I can see that stewing on not good enough isn’t helpful, but what do I do about the reality gap?’ That’s a great question. Whenever we face a reality gap, whether it be our marriage, job, health or behaviour, we can deal with it far more efficiently from a mental space of presence. It’s hard to address problems effectively if we’re lost in the smog.

  However, getting present is only step one. Step two is clarifying your purpose: what do you want to stand for and how do you want to behave as you try to solve this problem? We’ll cover step two later in the book when we look at the role of purpose but, for now, let’s just stick with step one. Try unhooking yourself from NGE in whichever areas of life it shows up most often, and see what difference it makes. And once unhooked, bring a curious gaze to the world around you; ‘be like a tree’ and get present. And who knows? You may well find that when you lift up those murky goggles, your problems seem a little smaller or easier to live with.

  Chapter 11

  THE WISDOM OF KINDNESS

  At times the reality gap is forced upon us through disasters such as flood, famine, fire, death and disease. At other times we create the gap ourselves, at least in part, through our own self-defeating behaviour. We all screw up, get it wrong and make foolish mistakes. We all, at times, get jerked around by our emotions like a puppet on a string, and act in self-defeating ways. Entangled in our thoughts and struggling with our feelings, we end up saying and doing things that are far removed from the person we really want to be. We may hurt the people we love the most, or we may avoid them because we feel we are unworthy of their love.

  As we practise and apply the principles within this book, we’ll find this sort of thing happens less often but, the fact is, we will never be perfect. We will screw up again and again and again. This is part of being human.

  So what does your mind tend to do when you screw up? If it’s anything like my mind, it pulls out a big stick and starts whacking you; it tells you you’re not good enough, or you can’t do it, or there’s something wrong with you; or it lectures you about the need to try harder, to do better and improve yourself. And this is hardly surprising. When we were growing up, adults often criticised us in an attempt to get us to change our behaviour; no wonder then that we grow up doing this to ourselves. Unfortunately, it isn’t very helpful.

  You’ve probably heard the old saying about ‘the carrot and the stick’. If you want to get a donkey to carry your load, you can motivate it with a carrot or a stick. Both approaches will get the donkey moving but, over time, the more you hit that donkey with the stick, the more miserable and unhealthy it becomes. On the other hand, if you reward the donkey with a carrot whenever it does what you want, then over time, you end up with a much healthier donkey (with really good night vision!). Beating yourself up, coming down hard on yourself or getting stuck into yourself is just as ineffective as hitting a donkey with the stick. Sure, harsh self-criticism may sometimes get you moving in the right direction, but the more habitual it becomes, the more miserable and unhealthy you will be. It’s highly unlikely to help you change your behaviour; it’s far more likely to keep you feeling stuck and miserable.

  So whatever created our reality gap, whether life cruelly dumped it on our doorstep or we made it (at least in part) through our own behaviour, to practise self-compassion is essential. (Unless, of course, you want to go through life like a battered donkey — but somehow I doubt that.)

  Now you may recall that self-compassion has two elements: kindness and presence. We’ve already looked at the skills involved in presence: defusion, expansion and connection. The next step is to ‘blend them’ together with kindness. So I’m going to take you through an exercise (actually, more like a series of exercises) to give you the full experience of self-compassion.

  An Exercise In Self-compassion

  Find a comfortable position in which you are centred and alert. For example, if you’re seated in a chair, you could lean slightly forwards, straighten your back, drop your shoulders and press your feet gently on to the floor.

  Now bring to mind a reality gap you are struggling with. Take a few moments to reflect on the nature of this gap and how it is affecting you, and let your difficult thoughts and feelings arise.

  1. BE PRESENT

  Pause.

  That’s all you need do: just pause.

  Pause for a few seconds and notice what your mind is telling you. Notice its choice of words, and the speed and volume of its speech.

  Be curious: is this story old and familiar, or is it something new? What time zones is your mind taking you into: the past, present or future? What judgements is it making? What labels is it using?

  Don’t try to debate with your mind or try to silence it; you’ll only stir it up.

  Simply notice the story it’s telling you.

  And notice, with curiosity, all the different emotions that arise. What do you discover? Guilt, sadness, anger, fear or embarrassment? Resentment, despair, anguish, rage or anxiety?

  Name these emotions as they arise: ‘Here’s fear’ or ‘Here’s sadness’.

  Pay attention, like a curious child, to what is going on inside your body. Where are you feeling these emotions the most? What are the size, shape and temperature of these feelings? How many layers do they have? How many different types of sensation can you find within them?

  2. OPEN UP

  Now slowly and deeply breathe into the pain.

  Do so with an attitude of kindness.

  Infuse this breath with caring and contribution; see it as an act of comfort and support.

  Imagine your breath flowing into and around your pain.

  Imagine that in some magical way, a vast space opens up inside you, making plenty of room for all those feelings.

  No matter how painful they are, do not fight with them.

  Offer peace to your feelings, rather than hostility.

  Let them be as they are and give them plenty of space, rather than push them away.

  And if you notice any resistance in your body — tightening, contraction or tension — breathe into that too. Make room for it.

  Contribute peace and space to all that arises: your thoughts, your feelings and your resistance.

  3. HOLD KINDLY

  Now choose one of your hands.

  Imagine this is the hand of someone very kind and caring.

  Place this hand, slowly and gently, on whichever part of your body hurts the most.

  Perhaps you feel the pain more in your chest, or perhaps in your head, neck or stomach? Wherever it is most intense, lay your hand there. (And if you’ve gone numb, or you can’t locate any particular place, then simply rest your hand on the centre of your chest.)

  Let it rest there, lightly and gently, either on your skin or your clothes.

  Feel the warmth flowing from your palm to your body.

  Imagine your body softening around the pain, loosening up, softening up and making space.

  Hold this pain gently. Hold it as if it is a crying baby, or a whimpering puppy, or a fragile work of art.

  Infuse this gentle action with caring and warmth, as if you are reaching out to someone you care about.

  Let the kindness flow from your fingers.

  Now, use both of your hands. Place one of them upon your chest and the other upon your stomach, and let them gently rest there. Hold yourself kindly and gently: connecting with yourself, caring for yourself, and contributing comfort and support.

  4. SPEAK KINDLY

  Now say something caring to yourself, to express concern or affection.

  You might silently say a word like ‘gentle’ or ‘kindness’, to remind yourself of your intention.

  You might say, ‘This really hurts’ or ‘This is hard.’

  You might say, ‘I know this hurts, but I can do this.’

  You might even repeat a quote, proverb or saying, as long as it does not make light of your pain.

  If you’ve failed or made a
mistake, then you might like to remind yourself, ‘Yes, I’m human. Like everybody else on the planet, I fail and I make mistakes.’

  You might acknowledge that this is part of being human; remind yourself, kindly and gently, this is what all humans feel when they face a reality gap. This pain tells you something very important: that you’re alive, that you have a heart, that you care, and there’s a gap between what you want and what you’ve got. And this is what all humans feel under such circumstances. It’s unpleasant. It hurts. And you don’t want it. And this is something you have in common with every other human being on the planet.

  ***

  I hope you found the preceding exercise helpful. Obviously, modify the exercise as you wish. For example, if you don’t like my suggestions for caring words, substitute your own. To help you with this, imagine yourself as a young child who is feeling the same pain as you. If you wanted to be kind to this child, to provide support or comfort, and to show that you truly care, then what kind words might you say? Whatever words spring to mind, try saying something similar to yourself, with that same attitude of care and concern and kindness. You can even go a step further with this idea and turn it into a powerful imaginary exercise, as follows:

  Compassion For The Younger You

  Find a comfortable position and close your eyes or stare at a spot.

  Take a few slow, deep breaths and notice them with openness and curiosity.

  You are about to do an exercise in imagination. Some people imagine with vivid, colourful pictures, much like those on a TV screen; others imagine with vague, fuzzy, unclear pictures; while others imagine without using pictures at all, relying more on words and ideas. However you imagine is just fine.

  Now imagine yourself getting into a time machine. Once inside that machine, you travel back in time to visit yourself as a young child. Visit this child at some point in their life when they are in a lot of pain, immediately after some distressing childhood event.

  Now step out of the time machine and make contact with the younger you. Take a good look at this young child and get a sense of what he is going through. Is she crying? Is he angry or frightened? Does she feel guilty or ashamed? What does this child really need: love, kindness, understanding, forgiveness, nurturing or acceptance? In a kind, calm and gentle voice, tell this ‘younger you’ that you know what just happened, that you know what he’s been through; that you know how much she is hurting.

  Tell this child that he doesn’t need anyone else to validate that experience because YOU know.

  Tell this child that she survived the experience and it is now just a painful memory.

  Tell this child that you are here, that you know how much it hurts and you want to help in any way you can.

  Ask this child if there’s anything she needs or wants from you — and whatever she asks for, give it to her. If this child asks you to take him somewhere special, go ahead and do it. Offer a hug, a kiss, words of kindness, or a gift of some sort. This is an exercise in imagination, so you can give anything she wants. If this younger you doesn’t know what he wants, or doesn’t trust you, then let him know that’s fine; that you are here for support, and will always be there to do whatever you can to help.

  Tell this child that you are here, that you care, and that you are going to help her recover from this pain to go on to lead a full, rich and valued life.

  Continue to radiate caring and kindness towards this younger you, in any way you can think of through words, gestures or deeds.

  Once you have a sense that this younger you has accepted your caring and kindness, let her be and bring awareness to your breathing.

  Observe your breathing with openness and curiosity for a couple of minutes, then open your eyes and connect with the room around you.

  ***

  Many people find that it is much easier to be compassionate towards a young child in pain than it is to be compassionate towards themselves — the exercise above makes good use of that fact. It’s good to practise it on a regular basis, not only for developing self-compassion, but also for healing old wounds.

  Aside from practising these exercises, think about the actions you could take: small acts of kindness you can do for yourself. How about a soothing hot bath or shower? Getting a massage? Eating some nutritious, healthy food? Going for a walk? Giving yourself some ‘me time’? Listening to your favourite music?

  Can you listen to yourself non-judgementally and acknowledge the extent of your pain? Can you treat yourself gently and give yourself the benefit of the doubt? Can you recognise you’re a fallible human being so of course you make mistakes? Can you look for the goodness in yourself? (It is definitely in there, no matter how much your mind may deny it.)

  I know this is easier said than done but, like every new skill, self-compassion takes practice. Personally, I find it hardest when I have yelled at my son. At times I get very cross with him and lose my temper. Why? Because he is not behaving the way my mind wants him to; he is not learning or developing at the rate my mind says he should be. Fused with these stories, I lose touch with my values of patience and acceptance and then I snap or yell or say harsh words.

  Then moments later, my mind comes out with the big stick: ‘Bad father!’, ‘What a lousy job you’re doing!’, ‘What a hypocrite you are!’, ‘He’s just a five-year-old kid; go easy on him; what are you losing your temper for?’, ‘Call yourself an ACT therapist?’, ‘What would the readers of your books think if they could see you now?’

  And before I know it, I am flailing around in a huge emotional storm of guilt, anger, embarrassment or frustration.

  And then . . . after a while . . . I realise what is going on and I plant my feet on the floor and I take some deep breaths and I notice what I can see, hear, touch, taste and smell. I connect with the world; I get present. And I acknowledge that I am hurting. And then I gently place a hand on my chest or my abdomen — wherever it hurts the most — and I breathe deeply. And I remind myself: ‘You’re a human being. And like every other parent on the planet, you screw up sometimes. This is what it feels like when you really care about being a good parent and you don’t manage to live up to your own ideals.’

  And then I look deeper at what’s underneath all that anger and frustration and what I find down there is ENORMOUS FEAR — so much fear about my son’s future: about what will happen to him if he doesn’t ‘progress’ enough. Will he be rejected or picked on? Will he be that kid in the class that everyone teases or makes jokes about?

  And then I look deeper still, to see what is beneath all that fear. And there it is: LOVE. Nothing but sheer, boundless, magical, never-ending love.

  And if you make the time to sit quietly, to be kind and gentle with yourself, and take a curious look at your emotional pain, then I suspect you will find something similar inside yourself. Whatever the emotion is — anger, fear, sadness or guilt — hold it gently and ask yourself: ‘What does this pain reveal about my heart? What does it show me that I care about?’ Or ask yourself this question, which comes from Steve Hayes, the originator of ACT: ‘What would you have to not care about, in order to not have this pain?’

  These questions help you to remember that you are not ‘bad’, even if your mind says you are. You are a caring human being. After all, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t hurt.

  Think Small

  To develop self-compassion, we don’t have to do something big and dramatic. The tiniest act of kindness makes a difference. For example, here are a few acts I have done this morning: I stretched my back and neck, I had a hot shower, I played with the cats, I tickled and wrestled with my son, I ate a healthy breakfast, and I listened to the birds outside the window. Such tiny acts of caring and contribution build up over time into a supportive, compassionate relationship with yourself. And even if you just imagine doing these acts, then, that in itself, can generate a sense of self-kindness.

  US psychologist Kristin Neff, one of the world’s top researchers on self-compassion, recommends a thir
d key element in addition to mindfulness and kindness, which we touched on in the exercise above: she calls it ‘commonality’ or ‘common humanity’. Basically this involves reflecting on the human condition and the nature of suffering. When we are hurting and suffering, let’s remind ourselves that these are normal human experiences; that all over the planet, in this moment, there are millions upon millions of other human beings suffering in ways very similar to our own. We don’t do this to discount or trivialise our pain, but rather to acknowledge it as part of being human; as something we have in common with everyone else; as something that can help us to understand the suffering of others and extend our compassion to them too.

  Often when we’re suffering, our mind tells us that we are the only one. That everybody else out there is happier than we are! That others don’t feel the pain that we feel. That others don’t screw up or make mistakes or fail — at least, not to the same extent that we do. And if we buy this story, it will make our suffering all the more intense. The reality is, all humans suffer. Every human life will be touched by loss and hardship. We all feel the slap and face the gap; it happens over and over, for every human being on the planet.

  So when life knocks us around, or dumps a pile of manure on our doorstep, remember: self-compassion comes first. Once that’s in place, it’s often useful to turn to strategising and problem solving; reflecting on words of wisdom and taking committed action guided by our values. But the best results will usually occur when compassion comes first.