A reflection on the inner child
Compassion (def.) – sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress, together with a desire to alleviate it
Self-Compassion – directing this compassion towards one’s self
Yoga philosophy* teaches us that our true nature can become imbalanced due to physical, mental and emotional conditions. These may manifest as tightness in our bodies and breath or as feelings of restlessness, worry, helplessness and the like. We can work to reduce or prevent these imbalances through practice—moving, breathing, sitting—learning to nurture attitudes of friendliness, compassion, pleasure and non-judgement. These healing virtues, or “yogic vitamins”, have as much to do with our relationship with ourselves as they do with our relationships with others.
I have struggled over the years with accepting compassion, in particular, as a two-way exchange—outbound, yes, but inbound, too? And self-directed at that? My coping mechanism growing up was (and is) perfectionism, which doesn’t really allow for kindness and acceptance of one’s own flaws with the same level of kindness and acceptance that one might have of another’s. This perfectionism ends up perfectly masking my underlying intense and often debilitating self-doubt with the appearance of a confident, independent and successful individual. And when I failed (and still fail) to live up to my unrealistic, self-imposed standards? Rather than being kind and mindful about my humanity and shortcomings, I regularly choose to judge myself and over-identify with the resulting stress, frustration and “why me?” isolation.
In therapy, we often explore the concept of the “inner child”, of which some of you may be familiar. Working with this construct often helps us to understand more our trauma and our pain and the origins of such, and we learn to use our adult capabilities to heal from these past wounds.
A popular exercise is to find a picture of yourself as a child and to keep it close. This photograph is from my third birthday—of this little me with her red-and-white gingham dress and her bunny cake. I see the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes. She stares at me with such joy, hope, curiosity, innocence, excitement and optimism.
Part of the work, as I had expected, is as follows: I hug her. I tell her she is beautiful and smart and strong. I assure her that she is loved and safe. I promise her that her imperfections are not flaws and rather are what make her uniquely her. I let her know that she doesn’t have to constantly seek approval or reassurance from external sources, that she matters as she is. I validate her.
Part of the work, that I had not expected, includes: she hugs me back. She tells me I am beautiful and smart and strong. She assures me that I can replace the walls I’ve built for protection with healthy boundaries for connection. She promises me that the shame, guilt and ultimate self-doubt that have plagued me for years are not mine to carry any more. She lets me know that I am enough, as I am, and to trust myself. She validates me.
As Paulo Coelho, author of The Alchemist, wrote:
”We have to listen to the child we once were, the child who still exists inside us. That child understands magic moments. We can stifle its cries, but we cannot silence its voice. The child we once were is still there.”
Just as I give an ear to her cries, she gives a voice to the magic still inside. We stare back at each other with openness, boldness, clarity, wonder, light and love.
Through yoga, I have become more attuned to my physical, mental and emotional imbalances. And through the practices of moving, breathing, being, I have been able to cultivate more kindness, compassion, respect and equanimity towards others—and slowly towards myself.
Compassion for myself is the most powerful healer of them all. ~Theodore Isaac Rubin
I lock hands with my younger self; we smile at each other, our eyes twinkling, and walk together along this path of healing.
