I’m making dinner for my kids while they tackle their homework in another room. I’m chopping vegetables, whipping up a peanut butter sauce, frying tofu, and stirring rice. Multitasking isn’t my strong suit, so this is pretty stressful.
One of the children asks for a drink, and I feel a wave of annoyance. Can’t they see I’m busy? I sigh and say, a bit harshly, “I just put the juice back in the fridge! Can you wait two minutes?” Now my child is upset, and I have another issue to manage. I feel frustrated and disappointed in myself for snapping. My original stress has now snowballed into additional problems.
While cooking, I’ve been working on being more mindful of my feelings. I start to notice the stress building up. I feel a tense edge in my thoughts and realize I’m being hard on myself and getting angry with everything. I’m aware that I’m stressed, but I see this as a fact, not a judgment. It’s normal to feel this way sometimes.
By focusing on my body and not my thoughts, I sense a painful knot of tension in my midsection. This is how my stress is manifesting, trying to get my attention. I look at this part of me with tenderness, similar to how I look at my children when I feel especially loving towards them. I say to myself, “I know this is hard for you. I just want you to know that I love you and want you to be happy.” This all happens in a few seconds while I continue chopping and stirring.
When one of the kids asks for juice again, I gently tell them I’m in the middle of something and it’ll be a minute. I realize part of my overwhelm comes from being tired and having low blood sugar. Understanding this is a relief. It’s not that the world is awful or my kids are trying to make my life difficult. It’s just the effect of trying to do a complex task while hungry and tired. So I keep cooking, feeling more supported and cared for.
The kindness I show myself spills over into the way I cook. I start to enjoy the actions, the colors, textures, and smells. This positively impacts how I interact with my kids. I’m calmer and kinder, and they feel my care, creating a loving connection between us. A couple of minutes later, I get them their juice.
Being mindful of our feelings creates a “sacred pause” where we’re less likely to react with anger, judgment, or blame. Mindfulness lets us observe what’s happening and avoid actions that cause more suffering for ourselves and others. This pause allows for more creative responses and lets us relate to our suffering with patience and kindness, supporting ourselves empathetically.
When we treat ourselves with kindness and compassion, we’re more likely to respond to others the same way. This pause helps us practice wisdom, recognizing that it’s normal to suffer and that irritability is often due to physiological reasons rather than personal failings or a terrible world.
Practicing self-compassion isn’t always easy, but the steps are simple once we remember to use them. Imagining or remembering stressful situations helps us practice these steps so they become instinctive. This way, we’re more likely to respond with compassion and kindness to ourselves and others in the future.
Self-compassion is incredibly powerful. It reminds me that overwhelming feelings can happen under certain conditions, and that’s okay. Recognizing and attending to our suffering without adding stories to it can be very freeing. Remembering and practicing these steps helps us treat ourselves and others with the care we all need.