Compassion as a Practice

Every morning, I wake to a world that’s different than the one I put to bed. And by afternoon, it’s different still. I am swept into a new reality for a few hours. I organize it in my mind and then—without warning–I disregard all that I know for a new set of facts that will have their brief moment of relevance before the cycle continues.

This is life right now: an unrelenting barrage of change, loss and shocking stats about my hometown.

Then there are the moments where:

My eight-year-old practices Tai Chi with her entire class via zoom.

I have a first session with a new client who is crying with gratitude to have support right now.

My dog sleeps against my leg during my quiet writing time.

And I realize, even while my brain is under arrest multiple times a day, I continue to have a lot to be grateful for. I’m doing my best in a world that’s not currently set up for the most basic of human needs.

I know, when I’m at my best, I’m practicing compassion. For myself, for my family and for a world of humans who know as little as I do about how to get through this intact.

My compassion practice right now is:

1.     Doing less.
2.     Expecting less of others and myself.
3.     Hugging my family a lot more than is typical for me.
4.     Releasing judgment of my decisions.
5.     Connecting more with people I love.
6.     Being outdoors (where it is less dense).
7.     Laughing with my closest friends.
8.     Creating a safe space to make mistakes.
9.     Choosing faith that we will be physically, mentally and financially OK.

In New York City, it’s tough to remember that there was a time before COVID-19 impacted my world and me. And yet in early February, I was focused on feeling good and how that was changing my life and my business. So, there was a time. Either there simply isn’t space in my brain to think about it right now or I’m focused on what our world will look like after, whenever that will be. While the expectation of feeling good seems like a long shot right now, compassion feels achievable. It offers a path forward where I can take teeny tiny steps without a focus on any known destination.