WEEKLY Compassionate Check-in 26.09.23
Welcome to my weekly compassionate check-in. Every week I take a few minutes to check in with myself and my work. I find that it really helps me keep track of (and celebrate) what I’ve done and think about what I would like to do next.
For my weekly check-in I've combined two frameworks to create a structure: compassionate qualities (Irons and Beaumont, 2018) and directions of compassion (Gilbert, 2017). I like these prompts as a way to facilitate quick, useful reflection.
I think that as a psychologist sharing my process for facilitating accountability, criticality and openness is important. Feel free to take what you want from this…
This week has been dominated by my race in Switzerland. I’ve mentioned it a few times in relation to the training process. Last weekend, the time came, so please excuse a compassionate check-in almost entirely through the lens of this experience. Next week’s check in will be see a return to a more balanced set of influences.
Compassionate Qualities:
Courage:
”There is extreme snow”. “We have amended the route to keep you safe”
That was an email from the organisers of the race, on the morning of the event.
For context, the promotional pictures for this race involved sun and t-shirts. The weather the day before and the day after the race was sunny and warm. However, the event would include temperatures as low as minus 6 and snow.
Ok, so it will be the longest distance I have raced. At altitude for the first time. With low visibility. In minus 0 temperatures… with “extreme snow”.
Cool. Sounds fun. Let’s go.
Wisdom:
Around the halfway mark I had let myself get cold. I had mis-managed my nutrition. Oh, and there was less oxygen in the air, so my brain was asking me to put my feet and and chill. All of this combined with my bad eye sight and low visibility to make me worried about my safety. I was slipping a lot, my legs were not responding like they normally do. I knew the next 5k held some technical trail (with chains to grab so you didn’t plummet off the edge). I had to put a lot of energy into working out what the most compassionate action was… to warm up and continue, or to avoid the potential future suffering of a bad fall.
So, wisdom for me looked like sitting on a rock, at the bottom of the hardest ascent, looking at the finish line (behind me, after the first lap) wondering whether I should walk back and quit, or carry on for another 15k? I wanted to connect with what was best.
So, I took a risk and stopped moving. I wanted to think deeply. Aside from the bravado. Aside from the pride. Aside from the rush of adrenaline.
So, when I carried on, it was from a place of acceptance. Forward.
Commitment to Care:
Trail running is an interesting discipline.
It is competitive. People place on podiums and get a performance rank after finishing. It is also very communal and collaborative.
I was immersed in caring action for the whole event. People encouraged each other. They checked in. They offered extra layers and gloves to each other.
It was a lovely mix of intense, individual endurance and communal striving. Writing this I feel very energised and I love the model I have been given for how to combine care and drive.
Directions of compassion:
Compassion can flow in three directions and find it helpful to use this lens to consider the last week.
Compassion to others:
Normally this flow of compassion is closely linked to my work, Over the course of the run, compassion was flowing in all the directions. Interestingly, the compassion I directed to other people feels like the least interesting direction to focus on (classic psychologist!) So, I will skip on…
Compassion from others:
As I’ve said, I almost stopped half way and so the ending felt very emotional. After 6 hours and 40 minutes of effort, when the finish line was in sight, I could see my two friends (and fellow runners) waiting for me, clapping.
Now look, I have been applauded before (A level/Uni drama crew stand up!) I have been cheered (during and after a boxing fight and through countless sparring rounds). It has never touched me like these two friends, at a finish line in the mountains. It made me realise, I have never come back from the point of quitting before. Up until last weekend, I think I had either: got so good at something that quitting was not on the horizon, or held something lightly meaning I could stop without caring. So, a lot to think about.
Compassion to self:
It took a lot of energy to work out how to balance different types of potential suffering. I know that I needed to eat, was cold and slightly befuddled from the altitude. However, from the comfort of my warm home, drinking coffee, the learning does seem important. Sometimes actions will increase the chances of suffering in one area and reduce them in another. So, how do we decide?
There will not always be a physical rock to sit on. Or a finish line to stare at. But, we can do things to create the conditions for compassionate thought. During the race this looked like stopping. In my daily life it can be an intentional breath. If you are interested in thinking about how you can use approaches like this in your work, to help with making difficult decisions, or sustainably navigating difficulty, then get in touch.
The Joining the Dots newsletter also shares longer pieces about using psychology in daily life and episodes from The Sizzle Podcast. Each post is labelled clearly, so you can get what you want, when you want :)
References
Gilbert, P., Catarino, F., Duarte, C., Matos, M., Kolts, R., Stubbs, J., et al. (2017). The development of compassionate engagement and action scales for self and others. J. Compass. Health Care 4:4. doi: 10.1186/s40639-017-0033-3
Irons, C., Beaumont, E. (2017) The Compassionate Mind Workbook: A step-by-step guide to developing your compassionate self. Little, Brown.