Inner Hygge - Day 9
How to belong to yourself
One of my favourite parts of the Mindful Self-Compassion course was the poetry. Each session ended with a poem, and I left with a list of poems to copy into my poem sketchbook - a little anthology I have created of all the poetry that touches me in some way.
This one, by the incredible poet Padraig O’Tuama was already a favourite of mine. I had discovered it when Hozier shared it during one of his Poetry Fridays during the pandemic. We read a lot of poems during the 5 day intensive course, and this was the poem that got the most emotional reactions from the participants.
This line captures the essence of self-compassion for me.
There is a you
telling you another story of you.
Listen to her.
The animated version from On Being is extra special. I hope you enjoy it.
Mini-Practice
Read the poem or listen to the video. If you like, close your eyes as the words wash over you. Place a hand over your heart if it feels good. Imagine a dear friend is reading it to you, or perhaps that inner wise grandmother inside you is sharing it with you.
How to Belong Be Alone
By Padraig O’Tuama
Listen
It all begins with knowing
nothing lasts forever,
so you might as well start packing now.
In the meantime,
practice being alive.
There will be a party
where you’ll feel like
nobody’s paying you attention.
And there will be a party
where attention’s all you’ll get.
What you need to do
is to remember
to talk to yourself
between these parties.
And,
again,
there will be a day,
— a decade —
where you won’t
fit in with your body
even though you’re in
the only body you’re in.
You need to control
your habit of forgetting
to breathe.
Remember when you were younger
and you practiced kissing on your arm?
You were on to something then.
Sometimes harm knows its own healing
Comfort knows its own intelligence.
Kindness too.
It needs no reason.
There is a you
telling you another story of you.
Listen to her.
Where do you feel
anxiety in your body?
The chest? The fist? The dream before waking?
The head that feels like it’s at the top of the swing
or the clutch of gut like falling
& falling & falling and falling
It knows something: you’re dying.
Try to stay alive.
For now, touch yourself.
I’m serious.
Touch your
self.
Take your hand
and place your hand
some place
upon your body.
And listen
to the community of madness
that
you are.
You are
such an
interesting conversation.
You belong
here.
Thank you for reading. I can’t tell you how much it means to know there are a few people out there reading these messages and trying some of the practices. I love you and I appreciate you being here.
See you tomorrow :)