I spoke yesterday at the funeral of someone who was just 18 months older than me; let’s call her K. When I sat down to write some notes, I thought the task would be tough. It was not an easy life to write about. We were very closely connected, and although I held her in great affection, our lives were very different. Mine has been one of privilege and opportunity, supported by close family and friends. She lived in poverty and was restricted by disability and ill health. I brought up one adopted child. She gave birth to six children, but was separated from them early in their lives.
As it happened, my task was easier than expected. I was able to say with absolute sincerity and with personal gratitude that when K loved someone, she did so with a whole heart, without bitterness and without holding back. When my time comes, if anyone is able to say that I was whole hearted, I would be glad.
So, what is this quality of whole heartedness and how do we acquire it?
I like the work of Brené Brown, a social researcher, who has spent time exploring whole heartedness. She started her research looking at human connection and found that those who have ease of connection are ‘whole hearted’, that is they are people who have the courage to be imperfect; that they embrace their vulnerability, believing that what makes them vulnerable also makes them beautiful. Moreover, they are willing to love when there is no guarantee they will be loved in return.
How different that is from how many of us lead our lives. I spent quite a bit of my working life with troubled and troubling teenagers and one of the first lessons I learned from them was that they would attack others verbally and physically in a desperate attempt to hide how scared and vulnerable they felt inside. These are not only the traits of the deeply troubled, however. All of us have an instinct to keep our most sensitive, wounded selves hidden, not only from others, but also from ourselves.
It’s one of the most powerful things I have learned from Jesus’ way with people. He appeared to have a capacity to see deep inside people, to know what made them vulnerable, even when they lacked awareness of it themselves. Maybe that is where the true miracle of healing lies, that place where we can see ourselves as we really are and embrace that vulnerability.
In my mindfulness meditation classes, I teach the practice of self – compassion. I teach it because it is a quality I need to develop myself. Self-compassion isn’t self - indulgence or self-pity but a profoundly positive, active, insightful human quality that can literally change our lives and our connection with others, opening up new possibilities.
There were only a handful of people at K’s funeral - only one of her six children along with a few neighbours and carers. But when I mentioned her whole heartedness, everyone smiled and warmth spread through the chilly February air. There was a strong sense of connection and joy.
As it happened, my task was easier than expected. I was able to say with absolute sincerity and with personal gratitude that when K loved someone, she did so with a whole heart, without bitterness and without holding back. When my time comes, if anyone is able to say that I was whole hearted, I would be glad.
So, what is this quality of whole heartedness and how do we acquire it?
I like the work of Brené Brown, a social researcher, who has spent time exploring whole heartedness. She started her research looking at human connection and found that those who have ease of connection are ‘whole hearted’, that is they are people who have the courage to be imperfect; that they embrace their vulnerability, believing that what makes them vulnerable also makes them beautiful. Moreover, they are willing to love when there is no guarantee they will be loved in return.
How different that is from how many of us lead our lives. I spent quite a bit of my working life with troubled and troubling teenagers and one of the first lessons I learned from them was that they would attack others verbally and physically in a desperate attempt to hide how scared and vulnerable they felt inside. These are not only the traits of the deeply troubled, however. All of us have an instinct to keep our most sensitive, wounded selves hidden, not only from others, but also from ourselves.
It’s one of the most powerful things I have learned from Jesus’ way with people. He appeared to have a capacity to see deep inside people, to know what made them vulnerable, even when they lacked awareness of it themselves. Maybe that is where the true miracle of healing lies, that place where we can see ourselves as we really are and embrace that vulnerability.
In my mindfulness meditation classes, I teach the practice of self – compassion. I teach it because it is a quality I need to develop myself. Self-compassion isn’t self - indulgence or self-pity but a profoundly positive, active, insightful human quality that can literally change our lives and our connection with others, opening up new possibilities.
There were only a handful of people at K’s funeral - only one of her six children along with a few neighbours and carers. But when I mentioned her whole heartedness, everyone smiled and warmth spread through the chilly February air. There was a strong sense of connection and joy.