Mercy

I sat down to write this post about forgiveness for oneself, but then after listening to an interview featuring author, Elizabeth Gilbert, I realized it was really about mercy for oneself. So, this post is about self-mercy. Here’s the distinction (for me) between forgiveness and mercy:

When forgiveness is spoken of and often practiced, it can have this hierarchical undertone and patronizing air about it. “I, from up here on my high horse, forgive you groveling down there on your knees (even though you don’t deserve it because of the shameful things you’ve done.) I deem you ‘forgiven.'” In this way it emphasizes a separateness, whether between you and I or two different parts of ourselves. Furthermore, there is no implicit compassion nor empathy in this sort of forgiveness.

Mercy, on the other hand, is all about compassion, empathy, and unity. When we practice mercy, we acknowledge the shared humanity in one another and embrace our own humanness when dealing with ourselves.

So, while forgiveness says, “I forgive the shameful things you’ve done and ‘bad’ qualities you possess. I forgive you for being so stupid/ egotistical/ thoughtless/ cowardly/ mean, etc.” Mercy says, “I see you and all of your humanness (by the way, same-same, me too), and I love you.”

“An important aspect of self-compassion is to be able to empathically hold both parts of ourselves — the self that regrets a past action and the self that took the action in the first place.” — Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication

Mercy means holding both parts of ourselves with loving-kindness — to be both the nurtured and the nurturer. You can practice this right now.

Close your eyes, and think of one very human thing you’ve done. Maybe it happened recently, or maybe it’s something that haunts you from long ago. (I can offer like 10 personal instances from today alone if you need to borrow one ;)) Really place yourself back in that experience. Go ahead and go all the way there. Let the story and all the feelings come along. Notice what happens in your body.

Now, press pause. Because just like that, you can do that — you can halt the narrative and stop the loop. Take a step back and step outside of yourself in that memory of what happened. Then, with all the love, empathy, compassion, and mercy you can muster for yourself, for perhaps your threatened ego or for the frightened human you were, smile warmly, and say to yourself frozen in that scenario, ‘How human of you.’ How so very human of you. Which, by the way, is exactly what you were intended to be in this life on this planet — a human being. And so as a human being, you have done human things, And you will do more human things, lots of human things.

Then, take the hand of your past self and come have a seat together in this present moment, wherever you are physically right now, and bring your awareness to your breath. Invite your inhales and exhales to elongate. With each exhale allow any remnants of shame to float further and further away.

Continue to sit with yourself and breathe. If it feels unbearable at any point, feel that. Then remind yourself that you are not your feelings, that everything (including this feeling) is temporary, that feelings are like waves which come and go, and that just at this feeling came, it will also go… if you let it.

Remember that when all the feelings, all the stories, all the shame and blame, all the wrongdoings and right-doings, all the humanness washes away, you are pure Light and Love. You are in need of neither Light nor Love, but rather you are Light and Love. It comes from within you.

The Light in me sees and honors the Light in you. Namaste.