Can Showing Yourself Compassion Improve Your Effectiveness

When the Women's Empowerment Group at NBC asked me to come and speak last month, I expected them to want me to talk about leadership, empowerment, and how to bring your best self to work. And so when they shared that the theme of the talk would be self-compassion, my mind felt like a chalkboard just wiped clean with a damp sponge. What did I have to say about self-compassion; what do I want to say, and how could I say it in a way that would make each individual feel seen, understood, and empowered to make whatever changes needed to live a more compassionate life? Even though the topic choice initially surprised me, it makes sense that the group would be craving a conversation around self-compassion. We've just been through a year that stretched us all, required sacrifice, the letting go of old paradigms and structures, and the rebuilding of new ones. A year that had us living with fear and the unknown while experiencing loss as well as birth. Mothers and Fathers stepped into the role of teacher, sons, and daughters were cut off from their families and friends, and many of us forgot what it felt like to hug another human being.

My husband and I moved to NY two weeks before the world shut down, and I can still hear the words of the then Governor reverberating in my head in an almost wise-guy tone of voice,

"We are NY tough,"

He said as news spread of pop-up morgues, logistical fiascos, and a quickly decreasing number of available hospital beds. Interestingly, the message was "BE STRONG" rather than "BE COMPASSIONATE," and I guess it makes sense. By definition, compassion requires us to experience a deep understanding of sympathy for one another, which calls for a certain level of vulnerability. Being vulnerable amid so much fear, sorrow and loss can be a task that feels almost impossible to bear. It can feel like we are on the verge of collapse, but if shared at the right time in the right way, it can empower others to do the same, to know they are not the only ones, and that we are all in this together. This is what being strong, courageous, and brave looks like to me.

On the other hand, tough is something completely different; it feels like putting on a mask, a suit of armor, boxing gloves, a layer of protection from the outside world that says nothing can hurt me. It encourages separateness rather than community, mistrust, a sense of false control, blame, lack, and anger at the other. Just thinking about it makes me feel drained and alone. And yet, being seen as tough is a source of pride for not only many New Yorkers but also many Americans. And what about compassion? From where I sit, the message seems to be, "Compassion is for sissies." So is it any wonder that so many of us can feel ashamed, unworthy, selfish, guilty, afraid, or even annoyed with ourselves for needing and wanting to feel some compassion for ourselves.

I recently listened to an old podcast hosted by the author Elizabeth Gilbert. She spoke to a mom and aspiring author who was procrastinating moving forward with her book because of the feelings of guilt that came up around what it might mean for her as a mother. Liz Gilbert's response to the woman's predicament caused me to skip a breath.

"All procrastination is fear," she said, "and fear has a lot of shady disguises."

I know that has been true in my life, my work, and my career. Sometimes it shows up as perfectionism, other times guilt, and perhaps the most difficult to identify - self-protectionism. In the coaching work I do, we talk a lot about fear. How everyone, even the most outstanding leaders in the world, experiences it, how it can affect our decisions, and very often assists in keeping us safe but also small. My goal is to help us all identify how fear shows up so that it can be recognized. Once we can do that, we can then do what the great creators of the world do - not allow it to drive our decisions. I love the way Liz Gilbert talks about her relationship with fear in her book BIG MAGIC. She writes,

FEAR: I recognize and respect that you are a part of this family, so I will never exclude you from our activities, but still, your suggestions will NEVER be followed. You are allowed to have a seat, you are allowed to have a voice, but you are not allowed to have a VOTE. You're not allowed to touch the road maps; you're not allowed to suggest detours; you're not allowed to fiddle with the temperature. DUDE, you are not even allowed to touch the RADIO. But, above all else, my dear old friend, you are absolutely FORBIDDEN to DRIVE.

I love the compassion Ms. Gilbert shows for herself here and her fear. It made me question, "Why is it that we so often talk about fear and guilt and blame as it relates to leadership, taking creative risks, and unleashing our talents into the world, and not enough about how it affects our ability to care for and show compassion to ourselves?" The analogy of putting on our oxygen mask first comes to mind, and I know we can all understand the importance of this intellectually, so what is it that gets in the way of putting our oxygen mask on first in our daily lives? What keeps us from taking that 15 minutes in the morning to meditate, take a bath, journal, go for a run, or read. Is it fear of not being the perfect mom, wife, partner, person, or friend? Or maybe it is something even more fundamental than that; perhaps it's the fear of admitting that the fear exists.

I know that I've struggled with feelings of guilt around putting my needs first throughout my adult life. As a girl growing into a woman, it seemed as if I was taught to take care of everyone else first. And I have to tell you; it was presented to me in a way that putting myself first was not even an option, nor would it need to be. Because taking care of everyone else first, would make me feel like I was fulfilling my destiny. But, funny enough, I never did feel fulfilled or satisfied. Instead, I felt empty, alone, needy, anxious, constrained, exhausted, and only partially alive.

It took me years; I would venture to say over 20, relearn the importance of putting on my oxygen mask first, shed the guilt, step into who I really was, and show some compassion for myself. And even though I still have a slip up here and there, my life now feels more like a warm hug rather than a dark hole, and as a result, I have become a more compassionate wife, mother to my dog, daughter, sister, and friend.

So for those of you who are in service to so many, I ask you to look and see how you might be procrastinating self-compassion. What effect is that having on your life? What is one change you can make today that would allow you to put your needs first?