Tag Archives: Self-Compassion Saturday

Self-Compassion Saturday: Barbara Markway

This week’s post is a little different. Before starting this series, I had never “met” Barbara Markway, didn’t know much about her even though I had seen her Self-Compassion Project. Three weeks after I published the first Self-Compassion Saturday, she sent me an email to tell me that she had a Google alert for self-compassion and in that way had found my blog. She explained that this was the kind of thing she wrote about a lot, if I ever wanted her to do a post.

How cool is that? Of course I said “yes, please.” And that makes this post completely unique — everyone else I sought out, asked, begged to contribute, but Barb found her own way here because of our shared interest in the subject. Her biography on Psychology Today describes her this way,

Dr. Barbara Markway, Ph.D., is a psychologist with over twenty years of experience and the author of four books–three on social anxiety/shyness and one on marriage. Her first book, Dying of Embarrassment: Help for Social Anxiety & Phobia, was named one of the most scientifically valid self-help books in a study published in Professional Psychology, Research and Practice. She has appeared on Good Morning America, The Today Show, and featured in the PBS documentary Afraid of People. Her work has been featured in the New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Washington Post, Prevention, Essence, American Health, Real Simple and Web MD. She has been heard on radio shows across the country. Dr. Markway’s recent interests include self-compassion and she writes about her own experiences at The Self-Compassion Project.

I’m so happy Barb reached out to me, so happy to share her perspective on self-compassion with you today.
1. What does self-compassion mean, what is it? How would you describe or define it?

I really like psychologist and researcher Kristin Neff’s 3-pronged definition of self-compassion.

The first component is self-kindness, which is what most people probably think about when they think of self-compassion. It’s about talking to ourselves in a kind, gentle way and offering ourselves the support we need.

Another aspect of self-compassion is recognizing our common humanity. In essence, acknowledging that everyone is flawed: this is part of the human experience. It helps to remember that you’re not alone in what you’re feeling.

The third component is mindfulness: being able to recognize, in the moment, that you’re suffering. It’s amazing how much negative self-talk goes on just under your awareness.

It’s been really helpful to me to focus on all three of these aspects of self-compassion, not simply the self-kindness part.

It’s also been helpful for me to remember that self-compassion is not the same as self-esteem. Self-esteem is a positive evaluation of oneself. In contrast, self-compassion is not about evaluating yourself at all. It’s about how you relate to yourself. What a relief that I can offer myself self-compassion, even if I don’t like myself at a particular moment!

2. How did you learn self-compassion? Did you have a teacher, a guide, a path, a resource, a book, a moment of clarity or specific experience?

What brought me to actively studying and practicing self-compassion was the approach of my 50^th Birthday. It was New Year’s Eve, December 31, 2011 and my 50^th Birthday was a month away. I realized that if I had to pick one word to describe my life up to that point, it would be “tortured.” I was never satisfied with myself. I frequently thought I hadn’t accomplished enough. I easily became overwhelmed with emotions. I was sensitive to the point that it was painful. I was prone to despair, alternating with diffuse anxiety. And to top it all off, I didn’t have a lot of fun in my life–mostly of my own choosing. When I read Gretchen Rubin’s book, The Happiness Project, I skipped the chapter on fun. I also suffered more than a little shame thinking that all of my training and experience as a psychologist should have made me a bit less of a mess by this point in my life.

So on a whim, I stayed up late December 31, 2011 and started a blog called, The Self-Compassion Project. I’ve used a lot of resources to learn about self-compassion since then. I highly recommend Kristen Neff’s book, Self-Compassion, and Christopher Germer’s book, The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion. I love anything by Tara Brach or Sharon Salzberg. I listen to and watch a lot of podcasts.
3. How do you practice self-compassion, what does that experience look like for you?

I use some specific techniques, most that I learned from Kristin Neff’s book. One technique I use daily is a gentle touch on my skin (maybe touch my forearm with my other hand) while I say something reassuring to myself. The touch actually releases oxytocin and sets off a calming response in the body. I discretely do this at work when I’m stressed. At home I may give myself a big hug!

Another thing I do is combine the self-compassionate touch with a phrase or self-compassion mantra, such as: “This is a moment of suffering; suffering is a part of life; may I be kind to myself and give myself what I need.”

I do a lot of informal mindfulness practice. I never used to take breaks—it was always work. Now I go outside and simply appreciate the beauty around me. This helps me connect with a greater good, and I end up feeling softer and gentler with myself. I have really gotten into bird watching.

4. What do you still need to learn, to know, to understand? What is missing from your practice of self-compassion, what do you still struggle with?

I still struggle with giving myself compassion around issues of chronic pain. I’ve had several back surgeries, and several other health issues, but a definitive diagnosis is elusive. Toni Bernhard’s book, How to Be Sick, and her blog on Psychology Today, Turning Straw into Gold, have been enormously helpful, though. But I’m not nearly as gentle as I could be with myself around issues of pain.

Then, there are several things I’ve learned, but I know I’ll need to keep relearning them!

One is that even though I love the name of my blog, The Self-Compassion Project, this isn’t something I can neatly do in a year and check it off my to-do list. Self-compassion really isn’t a project in that sense. (Oh, how I love to cross things off of lists!)

Also, I realized that, in a way, I was trying to trick myself with self-compassion. I said I wanted to be nicer to myself, but I really meant, “I want to change myself.” I thought learning to be self-compassionate was going to change my personality. Somehow, I’d magically become an easy-going, interesting person without worries. I also hoped that life would be easier, I wouldn’t feel things as deeply (sometimes I’m so raw), and I wouldn’t cry as much. DIDN’T HAPPEN. Well, I do think I worry a little less… 🙂

Related to the above, I need to learn not to take everything so seriously—even self-compassion. Sometimes the best thing I can do for myself is watch a Seinfeld rerun and simply laugh.

I could go on and on about what I still need to learn, so I’d better stop now. Thank you so much for including me in this series!

I’m so grateful that Barb reached out to me, made the initial contact, and have enjoyed getting to know her better — she is so kind. To find out more about her, to connect with her:

Visit her website
Follow her on Twitter
Read the interview she did about her project on Psychology Today

Next on Self-Compassion Saturday: Julia Fehrenbacher. This one is super special, a video interview between Julia and I. Yep, you heard that right — if you’ve never seen me moving around in “real” life, never heard my voice, now you will!

P.S. If you didn’t see the first post in this series, you might want to read Self-Compassion Saturday: The Beginning. Or make your way through all the posts tagged Self-Compassion Saturday.

Self-Compassion Saturday: Kat McNally

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I first found Kat McNally’s blog when she hosted Blogtoberfest last year. I immediately liked her, and the more I read of her work, of her life, her joy and her struggles, the more that affection grew — the more we connected, the more I adored her. She has many of the same doubts I do, puts forth the same kind of effort, is utterly amazing but doesn’t always see it for herself.

Kat is a mirror for me — I know for certain how completely wonderful she is, so when she questions that, when her trust in who she is falters, I think to myself “if Kat can be such a wonder, and still struggle, not always be sure, and yet I can see her so clearly, love her so much, maybe I might be able to also learn to do the same for myself.” In loving her, knowing her worth, seeing through her confusion, I am able to be more gentle, more kind with myself.

I’ve told Kat many times that someday, someday I will sit across the table from her at a coffee shop and we’ll talk about everything and nothing, make each other laugh, maybe even cry a little, and I will be able to adore her in person — I just know it, (she lives in Australia, so it will take a little extra effort, I admit). For now, I am happy to share her perspective on self-compassion with you, (plus some extra special, exciting news).

1. What does self-compassion mean, what is it? How would you describe or define it?

For me, self-compassion is about learning to show my self the love and kindness I would show to my family and dearest friends. It is also about being open to love and kindness and openness from my self during my most painful, shameful and lonely moments.

Self-compassion feels spacious and calm and at peace with what is… even if the what is doesn’t look like what you hoped it would or think it should.

I am developing a definition of self-compassion that starts with gentle but clear boundaries, especially in my parenting, supported by practices such as breathing and calming mantras to stay present to strong feelings that arise without being overwhelmed by them.

2. How did you learn self-compassion? Did you have a teacher, a guide, a path, a resource, a book, a moment of clarity or specific experience?

I only developed a clear understanding of what self-compassion means for me very recently. Working with a compassionate and trusted therapist was the most profound and effective path to this new level of insight.

But a big part of my “enlightenment” was also facing the reality that an aha! moment is one thing, but staying open in the moment to choosing a new response to an old anxiety is very much another.

I consider myself a work in progress when it comes to self-compassion and am hopeful that my journey will give my daughter the courage to do her own investigations when she is older.

3. How do you practice self-compassion, what does that experience look like for you?

I have a very recent example of this! Just this weekend, we returned from a family holiday in New York City. Now, I have long known that I am something of an anxious parent. My parents were anxious parents, as were their parents before them. But being away from home – somewhere as populous and busy as New York City, no less – made me realise just how deeply ingrained my anxieties are, and how much their underpin the daily routine I have constructed for my self and my family.

One day, the effort of grouching at an independent little four year old for wandering off in hectic Manhattan crowds became too much. My husband held me as we sat in the park next to the Natural History Museum and I cried. In that moment, I realised just how more relaxed I was when my daughter remained in her stroller, and how often we used the stroller at home when we really didn’t need to. My justifications had been pretty valid: flagging focus and energy levels after kindergarten, and greater efficiency when running errands. But I also saw the reality that containing her brought some comfort: if she was sitting, then she wouldn’t trip and hurt herself; if I could control the pace at which we moved, there would be less opportunity for disagreements and meltdowns.

Now, obviously there was a common sense aspect to this i.e. I had every right to be cautious about a little person getting lost in a crowd in New York City. After all, New York City is not Melbourne, Australia (and there is cause for caution in Melbourne, Australia at times, too).

But in that moment, I got caught in the push-pull of my anxieties that she’d get lost, hurt or abducted verses the voice that told me I was holding my daughter back by keeping her restrained. So, either way you looked at it, I was an awful mother.

Once the moment had passed and I was able to breathe my way through to a quieter space, I saw that so many of my anxieties were based on “worst case scenarios” handed down to me by may parents. I saw myself walking on eggshells every minute of the day. It suddenly didn’t seem so strange that I had suffered adrenal burnout over the past few years, or that we’ve had so much difficulty conceiving a second child.

Suddenly, I felt flooded with compassion for the woman who was just so relieved when her daughter napped or sat happily eating in her high chair or watched TV. Suddenly I understood why that those moments were lifelines for a new mama who, just for a moment, needed to not worry about whether her daughter was safe or happy. I also felt a deep gratitude for my parents, knowing that they had raised me with even more intense “worst case scenarios” handed down by their parents (the latter of whom had lived through civil war, the Second World War, extreme poverty and violent occupation of their homeland).

Since returning home, I have been working on gently dismantling the iron grip of my anxieties and redrawing some of the boundaries on my daughter’s behaviour. The stroller has been folded up and put away. There are greater limits on TV time. I still require my daughter to hold my hand at times but I am allowing her to walk and wander a little more and, increasingly, use her scooter. Her exhilaration as she glides on her scooter is palpable! And gorgeous to watch.

There is still a gnawing in the pit of my stomach that she is going to trip and fall. Sometimes, my therapist’s mantra “You can’t plan for catastrophe” feels like a lifeline.

Maybe my daughter will fall and maybe she won’t. But if she does, she will learn from first hand experience that I will always be there to hold her when it hurts.

4. What do you still need to learn, to know, to understand? What is missing from your practice of self-compassion, what do you still struggle with?

To be honest, it feels like my true work is only just beginning.

Up until now, I had read so many personal development books, used writing and art as therapy, taken e-course after e-course, chosen powerful words to guide me through the year, talked with dear and trusted friends over many glasses of red. But it was only through the painful process of deep excavation with a therapist – then using the tools she had given me to really see my self – that I understood what self-compassion truly meant for me.

Feeling compassion for a friend, and acquaintance, even a complete stranger (even someone I don’t especially like!) comes easily to me. Feeling compassion for my self “in theory” or when everything is calm and thriving in my world is also relatively easy.

But being gentle with myself when I am in the throes of anxiety – times when my fight-or-flight mechanisms kick in and I am less likely to give myself permission to slow down and reflect, and am also rather prone to making rash decisions and lashing out verbally – that takes a lot of work. And a huge part of that will be practicing self-compassion when I don’t get it right.

It’s exhausting… but as exhilarating as flying down your street on your scooter as a four year old.

Kat emailed me recently and asked me to add this: P.S. Now, many weeks after returning from our incredible holiday, I can finally share that our long-awaited second child has made his/her presence felt! At the time this post is published, I will be just on 17 weeks pregnant. And I know, as sure as I know anything, that the soul work Jill invited me to share here was critical in helping me create the emotional and psychical space to welcome a new soul into the world. For that, I am so grateful… to my support systems, to the universe, to my self.