Image by Khadeeja Yasser
Life is suffering. This is the first of the four Buddhist Noble Truths. Of course, life can also be beautiful. This can be in big ways. The birth of my grandchild last month, my sister’s incredible promotion after years of employment struggles, or the TARGIT-IORT breast cancer treatment research breakthrough recently.
The beauty of life can also be found in the smallest forms, far from the headlines. Being held in the understanding arms of the nurse at the hospital last week. Watching my cat rolling around in joy while my husband tickles her belly. Seeing two friends crying laughing and clutching on to each other in the station this morning.
Claire van den Bosch, Clinical Director of Heal Your Trauma
One powerful way of tending to our own suffering is to intentionally balance what we’re paying attention to, so that we’re also noticing the beauty.
Another powerful way of tending to our own suffering is – instead of turning our attention away from it – turning attention towards it. Sitting down with it, and opening up the tender heart of self-compassion towards it. And there is a form of suffering that I feel most moved to bring into focus in this post: the suffering of judging and shaming our suffering.
How often does a part of us observe the pain we’re in about something and ask, ‘What are you getting so upset about?’ Or, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Or, ‘When are you going to grow up?’ Or, ‘When are you going to get over this/stop being so sensitive/stop being such a baby?’
I’ve heard other practitioners refer to this as negative negativity or ‘the unnecessary suffering’.
The common humanity of suffering
In my experience of my own system, and my clients’, this self-shaming is a huge and extraordinarily human aspect of our suffering, and one of the most painful kinds, to the extent that shame is arguably the most painful of emotions.
The good news is that it is also the form of suffering most amenable to transformation through the healing power of self-compassion. As Kristin Neff reminds us repeatedly in her beautiful meditations, when we are suffering it’s possible to respond to our suffering – rather than with the voice of, ‘Why are you being such a baby?’ – with the voice of, ‘Wow. Yes. This is really hard right now. It’s really painful to feel like this. And it’s also deeply human. I know I am not alone in feeling like this sometimes. In this experience, may I be kind to and supportive of myself in the way I would with a dear friend who was having the same experience.’
Something I am struck by right now is that there are so many forms of suffering over which we are powerless. Perhaps the majority. This was very alive for me this week, supporting a friend whose daughter is experiencing the extreme distress of what seems to fit the description of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which neither my dear friend or her daughter had ever heard of.
What is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria?
RSD (you can read more about it here) is a frequently experienced, but often misunderstood part of ADHD. It can be an excruciating experience, beyond the territory of the more familiar realms of insecurity, rejection, suspicion and fear that most humans encounter in relationship from time to time.
It can feel like an unbearable howl of devastation, like a nuclear rage, an utter determination to remove ourselves permanently from someone’s orbit, to punish, or the compulsion to relentlessly demand. It can come as an absolute conviction that we are being slighted, humiliated or secretly ridiculed. It can often precipitate self-harm – and can also ultimately prompt the sufferer to create a life that avoids any chance of feeling these feelings. Which is likely, of course, to become a life of loneliness, emptiness and shame.
It is almost inevitable that someone experiencing RSD (especially if they don’t know that RSD is a thing, a matter of how the brain is wired, and a kind of distress not experienced by everyone) will experience extreme shame about their suffering. Part of them knows that their intense feelings are out of proportion in some way to the circumstances. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ ‘I’m a hideous human being,’ ‘I’m crazy,’ ‘Why can’t I control myself?’
When diagnoses can be helpful
This is one of the reasons I believe diagnosis – of whatever we have going on – can be powerfully helpful for many of us. To discover that there is an explanation that something was never within our control, that we are suffering with something dreadful that others also suffer with – can be profoundly de-shaming. Whether it’s RSD, neurodivergence in general, the menopause, a dissociative disorder, adrenal fatigue, or any of the countless neurological, organic or hormonally caused experiences with psychological and behavioural symptoms, the discovery that our experiences are not after all evidence of a weakness of character can be a profound relief.
But in truth, none of our experiences – even the most negatively consequential for ourselves and others – are evidence of weakness in our character, if we can find the courage and external support to bring radical curiosity to them. You may find Dan’s guided meditation, Working with Your Inner Critic, helpful for this endeavour.
And nothing facilitates this deep discovery more powerfully than bringing compassion to our suffering.
In place of the ‘What’s wrong with you?’ ‘You’re so crazy/lazy/stupid,’ we can begin to cultivate the heart reflex of ‘Wow, this is so painful, this is really hard, this is genuinely a moment of suffering for me. Please may I be kind to myself.’
In this way the first suffering may remain unchanged – the anguish of RSD jealousy, the snappy reactions of the menopause – but we have transformed the second layer of suffering, the shame about the suffering, into heartfelt kindness towards ourselves and a felt connection with the rest of humanity.
If you recognise the potential benefit for you of learning to cultivate deeper self-compassion, do sign up for our webinar on 27th May, The Healing Power of Self-Compassion, using the button below.
With love,
Claire
