The Art of Self-Compassion

It’s taking a photo of myself when a low mood hits and looking at the image with gentleness and understanding.

It’s standing on the sand feeling grounded and one with the foundation of the earth.

It reminds me of the words on my bag: “She is Fearless”, and who I become when I receive the courage to accept myself as I am today.

It’s my Italian colleague writing an ‘I heart U’ message on a scrap piece of cardboard and handing it to me, just when I need it.

It’s seeing and receiving hugs and connection from the babies I prayed for and about, before they were even conceived.

It’s gratitude for my walk with God and the freedom from Christianity that it led me to.

It sits patiently with me when I forget the story I wanted to write with my life.

It’s seeing the pollution washed up on the beach and returning the next day with black bags to clean up just a small part.

It looks like the childlike spirit that hugs a cuddly toy in a supermarket because I can, I want to and I will.

It’s a family who doesn’t know me, opening up the door to their home and being exactly who I needed, when I didn’t know my heart was asking for it.

Self-compassion is the space, freedom and vastness I see in the clouds; where the cares of the world vanish and the beauty of purity exists.

It understands that perfection doesn’t make me pure; purity is born from the truth of who I am. All of me, weaknesses too. And we all know that it’s not purity, but the truth, that makes us free.

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