Loving Kindness
When my first yoga teacher was explaining the concept of Ahimsa, defined as non-violence or non-harm, I thought this was a no-brainer and a Yama that needed little explanation. Ahimsa literally translates to not (A) hurt (Himsa), so the stretch to non-harm is an easy one. It was not until I started studying Yoga Therapy that one of my instructors gave Ahimsa a different meaning. She said, "Ahimsa can translate to loving kindness." It was like a lightbulb went off in my brain. Love and kindness were two principles I knew quite well.
I’ve always been hard on myself, and for as long as I can remember, I have been my cruelest and most vocal critic. It was not that long ago that I would berate myself for every perceived mistake and wince at the idea of feedback for fear that it would shatter what little self-confidence I had. Shortly after my 30th birthday, I had what can only be described as an epiphany. One night, coming off the worst week of insomnia I had experienced to date, I bolted up in bed around 3:00 am and began to shake and sob uncontrollably. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I scrambled for a pen and pad.
I began to write feverishly in my chicken scratch hand words like, "love, enough, hope, good, kind." I wrote down all the things I was good at, a pros list of my accomplishments to date, and the traits I liked in myself. I sobbed harder and began to scream into the darkness that I was good, I was worth something in this world, and I deserved love. I was fighting a war with a voice inside my head that was so loud for so long that I thought it was undeniable and absolute. The voice was a snarling, evil beast that wanted to draw blood with every sharp word it spat at me and rip any attempt at confidence out of my clutching, grasping hands. The voice was me.
When the pen finally fell from my hand, I slumped back against the headboard and let out a deep sigh. I waited for the voice to creep back up from the blackness with its cruel insults and hateful rhetoric, but the voice was quiet. I squinted and scrunched my face, straining to hear the putrid peroration, but all I heard was a faint whisper.
I would love to tell you that the voice was gone and never returned but this isn’t a prime-time movie on the Hallmark Channel, and I am no Lindsay Lohan. In six years, the voice has come back but never as loud and not nearly as frequently. I learned a valuable skill and lesson that night though it didn’t register until I started learning more about yoga, the importance of self-compassion and of course, Ahimsa. I learned that loving kindness must be a self practice as well as an external exercise.
In Judith Lasater’s book, "Living Your Yoga," she speaks to the importance of learning self-compassion before we can give compassion to others. I tend to agree with this sentiment. I know when I was in the deepest throws of self-loathing, I found myself judging everyone I met with the same angry voice that pounded the walls of my skull. Only when I began to heal and practice my own version of Ahimsa, or Loving Kindness, did I start to understand the harm I was inflicting both on those around me and myself.
Through my daily yoga practice and meditation, I have developed an internal dialogue that is kind and gentle. My mind is a place where I can retreat to if I am feeling upset or angry and need to speak without fear of judgement. I have daily conversations with myself, seeking advice and empathy, receiving positive feedback and lots of love and kindness.
- Steph
