mindful, compassionate, and occasionally fed up
I spend a lot of time writing about mindfulness, compassion, reflection, and self-awareness.
And I mean every word.
But every now and then, I also want to roll my eyes at something.
I find it comforting to know that some of the kindest, most emotionally intelligent people out there also have another voice within them, the one that occasionally says,
"Oh, come ON."
I know I do.
I’m learning to appreciate the part of me that sees something go viral on social media and just wants to say, "Seriously?" The armchair expert in me that wants to diagnose the entire internet or correct everyone’s grammar. (Silently, most of the time.) The one who wants to scream when someone starts mansplaining or even throw a perfectly good book across the room because the last chapter ruined everything.
It’s the same voice that shouts out “I’m so sure!” when my daughter and I are engrossed in a movie, and something so contrived or outrageous happens that it completely breaks the spell for me.
It’s the version of me that needs to be a little unrestrained. A little less tolerant. A bit snarky. The one that needs a day off from being “reflective.”
I've spent the past several months editing a manuscript. Every sentence. Every comma. Every word. I’ve wondered whether this or that phrase lands the way I intend. Whether that sentence sounds too harsh. Whether another word might better capture what I'm trying to say. It’s a tedious process, all-consuming and often exhausting.
It occurred to me that editing a manuscript wasn't all that different from the way I've spent most of my life choosing my words. I know how to soften a sentence. I know how to take the edge off a reaction. I know how to pause before speaking, reconsider a phrase, and ask myself whether something really needs to be said. Those are good things, and in many ways, they've served me well. Looking back, I can see the hidden labor behind that work, too.
Frankly, it gets old.
Sometimes I don't want to be the person who always understands where everyone else is coming from. Sometimes I don't want to look for the lesson, the silver lining, or the compassionate interpretation. I get weary of giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes I just want to think, "Well...that was ridiculous."
Then there’s the person who's never lived with chronic pain but somehow knows exactly what I should be doing differently. On those days, my inner mindfulness coach leaves the room, and the slightly fed-up Julie takes over for a minute.
Full disclosure: I swear like a sailor in the comfort of my own home. I don’t hold back. It feels like a healthy expression of anything from surprise to irritation. My cats don’t mind a bit. In fact, I think they usually agree with me.
And that’s just the thing — I do think it’s healthy. It can’t possibly be good for us to edit ourselves to death or deprive ourselves of a little sassiness now and then. Personally, I find it strangely therapeutic to scold my computer when my writing isn’t going as well as I’d like.
Like many others, I've learned there are certain people in my life who get the fully edited version of me, and a select few who get the director's cut. I don’t think anyone who knows me would see me give the side-eye at something and think, “Oh, Julie’s not really very compassionate.”
That version of me isn't less authentic. It's simply less edited, a bit less self-censored or distilled. And there's something really refreshing about that.
Don’t misunderstand me: I don’t go around chewing people out because I’ve had a tough day. That’s just not how I move through the world. But show me an automated customer service line that sends me in circles, and I’ll show you a string of expletives that would impress a pirate.
Yes, I might still try to take a few deep breaths and list three things I feel grateful for at the same time. It’s all about balance.
I think we might all benefit from acknowledging that other voice within us a bit more often. When we allow ourselves to own our snarky side, it doesn’t make us any less authentic, mindful, or kind. We’re simply not pretending the other side of us doesn't exist. If we’re honest with ourselves, we know it does. The wisdom comes from deciding what we do with it.
Editing has its place. Civilization itself depends on a certain amount of editing. I’m probably not the only one who’s typed out a comment on a social media post and then deleted it. I’ve sent fewer emails than I’ve composed, for good reason. And there may have been a text message or two that was wisely left unsent. I don't need to say everything I think — not all the time, and not always out loud. But every now and then, it's good to let off a little steam. It's not such a bad thing to let the unfiltered side have its moment in the sun.
Many of us have spent years being careful, thoughtful, compassionate, and responsible. That's genuinely who we are. But even the kindest people sometimes mutter under their breath in the grocery store checkout line. Even the most mindful and aware notice the absurdity in life and roll their eyes now and then.
So, while people sometimes assume that those of us who write about compassion spend our days floating serenely through every situation that comes our way, I can assure you that isn't how it works. Thankfully.
With you on the journey,
Julie