The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion

by Christopher K Germer

  Eventually a moment of mindful awareness dawned on me as I struggled to put her shoes on her swollen feet. “Wow, this situation is going downhill fast,” I heard in my mind, “definitely not how you imagined the first morning back from the hospital. What a mess we’re in!”

  With that, I took a deep breath and intentionally said a compassionate statement of intent to myself, “May she and I be free from suffering,” and I told my wife I needed to get a glass of orange juice. When I returned, I felt much better and resumed my efforts.

  What happened here? Notice how my discomfort escalated from (1) simple sensation to (2) aversion, (3) strong emotion, (4) entanglement in the emotion, (5) almost taking regrettable action. Each step along the way, from the bottom up, fighting the feeling amplified the problem.

  Low blood sugar initially made me feel tense (sensation). I didn’t want to feel that way (aversion) on this special morning, so I tried to ignore it, which led to feeling aggravated (strong emotion). My wife felt sad when she saw that she was bothering me, which, in turn, made me feel ashamed (even stronger emotion). I got caught up in shame (entanglement) and began criticizing myself (“I’m probably not a caregiving person”), and almost in the same moment I found fault with my wife. I narrowly averted behaving badly (action)— saying something. A moment of mindful awareness—noticing how bad I was feeling—was the key to interrupting this out-of-control spiral. The entire sequence happened in a matter of minutes.

  There’s usually a sequence of internal events when we find ourselves very upset. A thoughtful patient of mine said this is how his mind works when he gets depressed:

  “I don’t like this feeling.”

  “I wish I didn’t have this feeling.”

  “I shouldn’t have this feeling.”

  “I’m wrong to have this feeling.”

  “I’m bad!”

  Emotions just seem to get stronger the more we fight them, often culminating in self-condemnation—“I’m bad!”

  The earlier we interrupt the chain of negative associations, the better. If we catch our emotions “upstream,” where aversion first springs out of an unpleasant sensation, we can stay calm and centered. After we’re swept downstream, where strong emotions are swirling around, we still have a chance to disentangle from our suffering, but it’s not so easy.

  ANCHORING EMOTIONS IN THE BODY

  You can see from the vignette above that emotions are part mind and part body; the body affects how we think, and thinking affects the body. Emotions always express themselves in the body. If we can identify the bodily component of a difficult emotion—tension, trembling—we can avoid getting caught up in unnecessary mental anguish. (A neurological explanation for this process is given in the following chapter.) Even intense emotions can be scaled back through body awareness.

  Do We Have Free Will?

  In 1999, Benjamin Libet asked participants in a brain study to randomly flick their fingers or wrists as he measured their brains’ “readiness potential.” He made the surprising observation that the brain became active 550 milliseconds before any muscles moved. It took his human subjects another 350–400 milliseconds to become aware of their intention to act, with about 200 milliseconds left before the finger or wrist actually moved. Our brains seem to know what we’re going to do before we do! From a neurological perspective, free will is an illusion, but we still have “veto power” over an impending action if we become aware of it early enough.

  Take the example of grief. When people experience grief, they’re likely to have a feeling of tension or hollowness in the chest region, while at the same time thinking that they would rather not go on living without their loved one. It’s much easier to manage the physical side of grief—muscle tension in the chest region—than the mental side. That’s because when we think about thinking, we become absorbed in it, often adding an extra measure of self-judgment. If we locate the emotion in the body and soften into it, we can start to liberate ourselves from the mental preoccupations that characterize strong emotions like grief.

  When a patient of mine is overwhelmed with emotion, we typically explore together where the feeling is located in the body. It’s different for every person, but anger is often felt as tension in the neck, sadness as tightness in the chest, and shame as an empty feeling in the upper body and head. Many emotions, especially fear, are felt in the abdomen; that’s why they’re called “gut feelings.”

  It’s easy to be mindful of the body because the body is slow-moving and tangible. Mindfulness of emotions is a little more difficult than mindfulness of the body, and mindfulness of thoughts is more difficult still. When we find our emotions in the body, they become anchored and can’t toss us around so much. The following exercise will help you do that. It builds on the mindfulness practices you have already learned.

  TRY THIS: Mindfulness of Emotion in the Body

  This exercise takes 10 minutes and is best practiced when you’re having a difficult emotion. If you’re feeling content, pick an emotion that generally bothers you, such as anger, fear, or guilt. The first time you do this exercise, choose a mildly difficult emotion. Start by finding a comfortable position, close your eyes, and take three relaxing breaths.

  Note your posture on the chair as if you were seeing yourself from the outside. Feel your body humming with sensation. Enter into your body and into the world of sensations occurring in this very moment.

  Now bring attention to your heart region. If you wish, place your hand over your heart.

  Find your breath in the heart region and begin to practice mindfulness of breathing. Feel your chest move as you breathe. When your mind wanders, bring it back to the sensation of breathing.

  After a few minutes, release your attention to your breath and let yourself recall the difficult emotion. If you wish, remember the situationin which you felt the emotion.

  Now expand your awareness to your body as a whole. While you recall the emotion, scan your body for where you feel it the most. In your mind’s eye, sweep your body from head to toe, stopping where you can sense a little tension or discomfort.

  Now choose a single location in your body where the feeling expresses itself most strongly. In your mind, incline gently toward that spot. Continue to breathe naturally, allowing the sensation to be there, just as it is. If you wish, place your hand over your heart as you continue to breathe. Allow the gentle, rhythmic motion of the breath to soothe your body.

  If you feel overwhelmed by an emotion, stay with your breath until you feel better and then return to the emotion.

  When your period of meditation has nearly elapsed, return to your breath for a few minutes and then gently open your eyes.

  Did you notice that emotion could be felt in more places in your body than you originally expected? Could you sense how the body resists uncomfortable emotions? Did your body start to let go as you brought nonjudgmental awareness to the places of tension? You can practice this exercise any time you have a difficult emotion. When an emotion is released in the body, the mind lets go as well.

  Sometimes it helps to label the feeling tone in your body. For example, you can say “unpleasant,” “pleasant,” or “neutral” as you sweep through the sensations in your body. Or when you feel an unpleasant sensation, you can just say “Ouch!” The idea of labeling is to be with the sensations without being swallowed up in them.

  The following exercise can be added to the one you just did. It may help to deliberately cultivate a softer, friendlier relationship with the physical discomfort of difficult feelings.

  TRY THIS: Soften, Allow, and Love

  Again, start to practice by finding a comfortable position, close your eyes, and take three relaxing breaths.

  Bring awareness to your body and the sensations occurring there in the present moment. Then find your breath in the heart region and begin to track each breath with mindful awareness.

  After a few minutes, release your attention to your breath and let your attention be drawn to the place
in your body where your difficult emotion can be felt most strongly.

  Soften into that location in your body. Let the muscles be soft without a requirement that they be soft, like applying heat to sore muscles. You can say, “soft … soft … soft …” quietly to yourself, to enhance the process.

  Allow the discomfort to be there. Abandon the wish for the feeling to disappear. Let the discomfort come and go as it pleases, like a guest in your own home. You can repeat “allow … allow … allow …”

  Now bring some love to yourself for suffering in this way. Put your hand over your heart and breathe. You can also direct love at the part of the body that is under stress. It may help to think of your body as if it were the body of a beloved child. You can repeat “love … love … love …”

  “Soften, allow, and love.” “Soften, allow, and love.” Use these three words like a mantra, reminding yourself to incline with tenderness toward your suffering.

  If you experience too much discomfort with an emotion, stay with your breath until you feel better.

  Slowly open your eyes when you’re ready.

  A soft, allowing, loving attitude toward the body is a mindful attitude. We’re abandoning the instinctive tendency of the body to tense up and reject discomfort. “Softening” occurs at the physical level, “allowing” at the mental level, and “loving” at the emotional level. Together, they allow the body to release what it’s holding on to. If you find one or more parts of the exercise easier, just stick with that. For example, perhaps it makes the most sense simply to “soften and allow.”

  “Allowing” also refers to letting thoughts come and go. Until now, I haven’t emphasized thoughts because they’re so hard to track from moment to moment. However, our thinking can have a huge impact on how we feel. How good can you feel if you’re beating up on yourself, thinking “I’m an idiot” over and over? When you’re aware of such self-destructive tapes in your mind (you’ll learn to identify them in the next chapter), just allow them to arise and disappear in compassionate awareness.

  Be careful not to work too hard at meditation or be too technical about it. The way you conduct this exercise should embody the same message that you’re giving to your body. If you want to soften your muscles, do the exercise softly. If you want to allow all kinds of thoughts to slip in and out of your mind, take a back seat and watch the river flow. Let it be easy. Don’t rush or harbor any expectations other than the wish to be a loving companion to yourself. Kind wishes are therapeutic in their own right even if what you’re feeling is difficult.

  THE ART OF LABELING EMOTIONS

  You’ve probably seen by now how labeling sensations can keep you grounded in your body and out of your ruminating mind. Now we’ll advance to labeling specific emotions. This practice helps you see emotions as “just emotions” rather than getting caught up in them.

  In the last chapter, I gave you an instruction during the “mindfulness of sound” exercise to relinquish the tendency to label. That might seem to contradict what this chapter is emphasizing. The difference is that when the object of awareness is neutral, like most sounds, labeling can separate us from the experience of just sound. But when something’s troubling us, the act of labeling helps us step back just enough to remain in relationship to the feeling without drowning in it. Naming emotions—“loneliness,” “sadness,” “fear,” “confusion”—makes it easier for us to be with difficult emotions.

  Noting

  “Noting” is an umbrella term for turning toward an inner experience with awareness. We can note by wordlessly “noticing” a sensation, thought, or feeling for a second or two (“Ah-ha,” “Oh yes”), or by “labeling” it with a word.

  We can also ignore or turn away from difficult inner experience, returning to our chosen anchor, such as the breath. This is sometimes a good idea. Focusing on one object to the exclusion of others brings calmness of mind, at least for the time being. It’s worth learning to “note,” however, since we’ll eventually have to deal with our difficult emotions, such as fear. Noting helps us do it safely: “That’s fear! Yes, but it’s only fear.” I had a patient who said, “Anchoring is like ‘home base,’ and noting is like ‘traveling.’”

  In actual practice, noting alternates with anchoring, switching back and forth every few seconds. Don’t stray from the body (your breath or another anchor) for very long. The more we allow our attention to dwell on an emotion rather than the anchor, the more we’ll learn about it, but we risk losing calmness and stability of mind. Noting plus anchoring helps you maintain even, balanced attention while you explore difficult emotions.

  Labeling requires more engagement with negative emotions than noticing does. It means giving a specific title to what you’re going through. It draws us further into the experience, but it can also provide distance and perspective. When a strong emotion arises, you can label it out loud or move your lips quietly to mouth “anger,” “anger,” “anger.” When an emotion is mild, you can name it silently in your mind for the same effect.

  There are many ways to label our experience. One of the most common forms, when you’re relatively free of emotional conflict, is simply to say “thinking” when you’re entangled in thought and then return to the anchor. You can also do the same with “sensing” and “feeling.” You can use the labels “pleasant,” “unpleasant,” and “neutral” to describe how you feel, softening the grip of attraction and aversion. You can also say, “This hurts,” “Ouch!,” or “disturbing” when you have vague, unspecified discomfort. We’re not trying to stop suffering; we want to know when we’re suffering, which loosens it up a bit. Labeling apostrophizes emotions.

  Just about any inner experience can be labeled. I had a client, Luis, with attention deficit disorder who said that his main problem was “beating up on myself.” He had internalized all the criticism he had received as a child for not completing his homework assignments and for being restless most of the time. Luis resolved to name self-criticism every time it occurred, both in formal and informal meditation. I asked, “How do you know when you’re beating up on yourself?” Luis said, “I feel tension in my stomach, anxiety in my chest, or I find I’m short with the kids. Then I assume I’m doing it, so I say ‘beating up on myself.’” This simple labeling practice gave Luis relief from self-critical thoughts.

  How we label is important too. We can apply “worried attention” or “calm attention.” Worried attention leads to fearful withdrawal, and calm attention gives us a little space to look around. It’s like being a kid scared in the dark. Saying to yourself “It’s dark and hard to see” is labeling with calm attention; it keeps you from succumbing to abject fear, exaggerating the danger with your own mental interpretations, or blaming yourself for being “a big baby.” Worried attention might sound like “OH NO, I can’t see a THING! Who knows what’s out there?” and sets off a cascade of thoughts that turns uneasiness into terror.

  Try to adopt a gentle, accepting tone with your labels. If you find yourself barking at an emotion, you probably have an underlying agenda of making the emotion go away, which runs counter to everything we’re doing. Soft, gentle labeling helps the mind escape the tendency to wish away unpleasant experience. Also, don’t work too hard at this or your attention is likely to wrap around and hold onto an uncomfortable emotion rather than release it. Go slow and easy.

  Words for Feelings

  Labeling emotions is a powerful way to manage them and to behave skillfully in relationships. It helps us stay calm so we can make rational decisions. Parents tell their young children to “use your words” when the child is upset. Mental health clinics hold classes for “alexithymic” adults—people who don’t have words for feelings. For example, if a man cannot say “I feel ashamed,” he’s more likely to get angry and behave irrationally. If you think about it, the ability to find accurate labels for feelings underlies the entire “talk therapy” industry. Brain research has revealed that finding words for feelings deactivates the part of the b
rain that initiates a stress response.

  Labeling Emotions Calms the Brain

  How does mindfulness meditation actually help balance our emotions? Is there a neurological mechanism? David Creswell and his colleagues at the University of California used functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) to explore how the practice of labeling emotions calms the brain. Thirty participants were shown photographs of people who were emotionally upset, and the participants were asked to label the emotion (for example, “angry” or “fearful”). In a control condition, the participants looked at faces and selected a name underneath them that corresponded to the person’s gender, like Harry or Sally. The researchers discovered that the amygdala—the part of the brain that sounds an alarm in times of danger—was less active when an emotion label was attached to the upset face compared to when a name was attached. Parts of the prefrontal cortex, especially the midline (the “medial” part that is active when we monitor our own emotional starts), became more active as the amygdala became lessactive, demonstrating that the pre-frontal cortex inhibited the activity in the amygdala.

  The participants were also asked to fill out a mindfulness scale. The inverse relationship between prefrontal cortex activity and the amygdala was greaterfor highly mindful participants than for those who were less mindful. (It is unclear whether the activated part of the prefrontal cortex is in or outside the default network. More research is needed to define the default network and separate out the functions of the different parts of the medial prefrontal cortex.) Creswell’s research suggests a neurological “mechanism of action” for why we feel better when we talk to a friend, write in a journal, or otherwise put our feelings into words.