Tara Cousineau, PhD

Clinical Psychologist, Kindness Warrior

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Astonish Yourself: Find Common Ground

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I have been snowbound these past weeks with Nor’easter storm No.3 behind me and No. 4 predicted for next week. The ides of March. All around me is a wet, heavy blanket of snow. I yearn for some color. Not the color of mud, either, which surely is the next palette.

As I was rummaging around to clean my home office space from the vestiges of writing The Kindness Cure, a postcard tumbled out of a pile of papers. A plain white postcard. White!

But in black type was a well known quote from Rumi:

Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field, meet me there.

I paused and looked out the window.

A message from beyond, I thought. This random incident might be what SQuire Rushnell calls a god wink, “An event or personal experience, often identified as coincidence, so astonishing that it could only have come from divine origin.”  He suggests that unexpected or delightful experiences aren’t coincidental at all, but somehow are evidence that the universe is conspiring in your favor. As a glass-half-full kind of gal, the idea of god winks is sort of up my alley.  

I considered the Rumi quote a god wink — the kind to awaken me from a spell. It caused me to pause and be still for a little while.  What or who might I meet in the middle of a vast field? What is happening right now in the world that asks us to venture forth into uncertainty? Parkland, Florida. Syria. Primary elections. Community service. Oh, the fields we can find ourselves in if we are willing to wander there. If we can muster the courage.

There is a story in my book that comes to mind, in a chapter called “Radical Acceptance.”  It’s a story of a mom who learns, through a painful unfolding, that her child is transgender. The story is about a brief exchange she had with a longtime friend, another mother, who pitied her. She was stumbling in a field ripe for compassion yet without a language for it among her circle of friends. That was yet to come. She told me: “I’m not trying to convince anyone to accept my kid, but if you look at us as human beings, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. We all really want the same things at the end of the day. We want our kids to be happy and healthy and productive members of society. That’s not different for me. I know in my heart if I didn’t accept my child, my kid would be dead. I don’t know of any parent who would choose that over clinging to beliefs. Common ground is there if people want to see it.”

The field. Common ground. Possibility.

Of course, the fallen postcard may not have been “astonishing” really.  Curious, I looked up the definition:

 

astonishing

adjective  as·ton·ish·ing  \ ə-ˈstä-ni-shiŋ \

:causing a feeling of great surprise or wonder : surprising – an astonishing discovery

 

That we might be open to moments of wonder, however it falls before us  — is an opportunity to see something in a new way or accept things as they are. Sometimes we need reminders.

Your kindred spirit,

;D

Tara

Behold the poke of the tulip leaves! A sprig of spring.

Check out a few of my recent guest posts and please share with your friends! The world can always use more kindness. Let’s spread the word.

Please be sure to  follow me on social media and like/follow my Facebook author page. Sharing is caring!

Photo by Paul Green on Unsplash

Photo By Tara Cousineau 2018

Empathy Hurts. Empathy Heals.

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“It all your fault,” my daughter sniveled as we shared an entire box of tissues. “I inherited this from you.” She was accusing me of endowing her with an overabundance of empathy as we watched the film adaptation of the young adult novel Wonder by R.J. Palacio. Auggie Pullman is a 5th grader who was born with a facial deformity. He’s a Star Wars geek. He hides under an astronaut helmet that is as publicly conspicuous as his face, but at least allows him some measure of safety from the stares and cruelty of others. The story heartbreakingly shows the complexity of being human, what it means to be different from the norm, and serves up the usual suspects of friend and foe on the cusp of coming of age. The story also evokes—for  anyone with a beating heart—the essentiality of love, belonging, and the healing energy of kindness.

By midnight my daughter and I were surrounded by a sea of twisted white tissue and debris. The film obviously worked the story’s magic for both of us and served as an emotional release. It was another tumultuous week of emotional highs (teens rising) and emotional lows (a federal proposal to arm teachers with concealed weapons)—at least for us.

Here’s the thing: Empathy hurts. We feel sadness or anger or pain when another person feels sadness or anger or pain. That’s emotional empathy. These feelings can lead to empathic distress. We can also mirror uplifting emotions like joy, care, pride, love, and compassion for another’s suffering. This can lead to empathic concern. As such, empathy can tie us together in ways that illuminate our deep connection. Similarly, we can imagine the feelings of another person without necessarily being caught up in heightened emotional states. That’s cognitive empathy. Evoking the imagination is what allows us to be moved by real and fictional stories, too. That’s why reading novels helps promote empathy. We can picture ourselves in the shoes of another person and taking on roles.

But empathy is tricky. We need a good balance of both the emotional and cognitive elements to ignite motivational empathy, or the kind of empathy that allows us to reflect on our reactions without being flooded by difficult emotions. This takes some emotional muscle. There is an art and skill to rumbling with empathy that allows us to calm ourselves and, if and when possible, choose compassionate action. I describe this in detail in my book, The Kindness Cure.

So if you are feeling upset or distressed by recent events, that’s totally understandable. The experience of empathic distress maps to neural networks in the brain similar to that of physical pain. It hurts. I’d be concerned if you weren’t (on some level) moved by yet another school shooting or by any suffering for that matter, even if how you and I decide to respond is different.

The sobering truth is that my daughter and I could finish watching Wonder with relative feelings of safety. We could tuck ourselves in and imagine how we’d stand up to those mean 7th graders that roughed up Auggie. We can also decide what, if anything, we want to do about current events. In this way we are privileged, blessed, lucky—or all of the above. We have freedom to choose a course of action. Of course, that privilege can change at any moment. That’s why it is so important to be present to the unfolding of life and to recognize our inherent responsibility in caring for one another—in spite of differences in how we look, where we come from, or in what we believe—because we can.  Empathy also can heal us.

Maybe that’s why the rising voices of young people is so refreshing: they are unapologetic, demanding, and focused on putting compassion in action. They care about the basic needs of children to feel safe and loved. They’re putting up a fight. They’re demanding respect.  They feel empowered. And they are demonstrating a universally understood imperative of the Golden Rule. There’s a quote in my book from a spiritual master that’s worth repeating here:

True kindness does not have an agenda or ulterior motive; it is an instinctual response that can feel highly energized and even fierce. Yes, kindness can be fierce. Chögyam Trungpa, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher, goes so far as to say that a compassionate mind is a warrior’s mind. ‘To understand our self-nature, as well as the self-nature of humanity, we should focus on what has beauty and dignity among humankind. Doing so will rid you of a fearful mind, and change it into a spiritual warrior’s mind.’ To overcome your fears of living in a world where painful things happen, expand your compassionate nature. Because it is innate. Know that what you do matters to others, so be caring and careful about your actions. Be a kindness warrior.

The challenge today is that we have an overexposure to negativity and underexposure to the goodwill in the world. Our attention is constantly diverted away from ordinary moments of kindness. We forget that there is so much we can appreciate and love. Let’s try looking a little closer.  We might just see the beauty and dignity among humankind. And that’s worth fighting for.

 

  • Coming in March is Palacio’s newest work, a picture book for younger children called We’re All Wonders. It introduces Auggie and the themes of kindness, empathy and tolerance.
  • The book Wonder inspired the Choose Kind Campaign and there is also an app for that! It’s called Daily Wonder. 
  • To be human is to be kind—at all stages and ages—including creating caring cultures at work. Join in the conversation in an upcoming webinar for the workplace hosted by Whil.com:  The Kindness Cure: A Prescription for Engaged and Successful Workplaces.  Tell your colleagues and co-workers. You can register here: http://bit.ly/2EuecOL

Photo by Marco Bianchetti on Unsplash

Illustration of Auggie: Wonder by R.J. Palacio

No More Guns and Roses

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Embed from Getty Images

“Do you know that there have been 239 school shootings since Sandy Hook?”

“Mom.”  My younger daughter’s voice cracked, “One of the boys got his acceptance letter into a college the day before.”  

She stood in the shadow of a door in the one corner where she could charge her smartphone while scrolling the deluge of messages and postings from teens all over the country about Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. She will graduate in a few months.

We stared at each other. It’s hard to come up with words in such a moment. Sometimes there aren’t any. Her long hair was loose and wavy from a run in the rain. In the dim light she looked like one of those ephemeral paintings by J.W. Waterhouse. A mythological maiden. An image of worry and wonder. Fragile yet fierce.

She stomped off to study for a calc quiz in a flurry of anger—and I imagine also a wave of guilt and gratitude that she can even be angry about homework when 17 kids can’t. I’m with her. Those precious lives cut short. I think of the grieving father who couldn’t remember if he told his daughter “I love you” when he dropped her off at school that day.

No words.

I silently asked myself: What is the next best thing I can do right now? It seems that the grown ups are failing their children. Yet I sense a vibe. These kids won’t stand for it. This generation is going to do something about it. Two decades of a public health crisis in schools and they will use their common sense, pure and simple. They could care less about lobbyists and special interests. They care about each other.

But at 10 o’clock at night there is only so much a mom can do. There is an Eastern compassion practice called tonglen, which is a giving and receiving reflection to use in difficult times. As Rabbi Rami Shapiro writes in The Sacred Art of Loving Kindness, “It is a way to take upon oneself the pain of the world and transform it into love.” That’s what I choose to do in the moment.

Here is a simple version that I offer in my book.

Sit quietly and comfortably, perhaps with a hand on your heart. Breathe in and out in a comfortable way. As you breathe, bring to mind a sense of warmth, comfort, and ease, or whatever you need in the moment. Inhale this soothing feeling.

Bring to mind a person who is struggling and needs compassion. After you inhale a comforting breath for yourself, on the exhale offer the other person feelings of kindness, caring, comfort, and ease.

Then return to yourself, breathing in warm sensations. Switchback to the person you are visualizing. In an even flow of in- and out- breaths, receive and give warmth and kindness. Like a see-saw. Back and forth, back and forth. One breath in for me, one breath out for you.

It’s an uneven see-saw. All those kids. Parents. Friends.

Some say prayers are not enough. This feels true. But where would we be without them?

A sacred pause. A deep breath. One for me, for you. An infusion of air inviting a sliver of hope. Maybe even a dose of faith. When we start from a place of loving awareness a smidge of space opens up. It’s here where we can discern the next best thing to do. It can reveal a path to compassionate action.

Call a congressperson. Support sensible gun policy. Vote at the midterms. Volunteer. Donate. Speak up. Say I love you.

Make every moment count.

Are you concerned about Gun Violence in Schools and communities?

It is time for a kindness revolution. Kindness Cure Sightings:

 

 

Credits:

Getty Images, 2018

Tara Cousineau, 2018, Guns & Roses Multimedia

Making Friends with Your Inner Cynic

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People often ask me if I think people are less empathetic in today’s world. It’s a good question. After all, just a quick glance to the daily news or a social media feed is a sure-fire way to trigger feelings of doom and gloom. Another Valentine’s Day passes you by with sweet nothings for nothing? A temper tantrum toward an unsuspecting family member or co-worker maybe? An urge to run for the hills to hide? I’m with you. On more than one occasion in the recent past I have told my friends that I’ll be moving to Canada, or even better, to cozy Denmark where the happy people live.

We can’t help but want to rumble or retreat in the face of danger — real or imagined. Our brains are wired to scan for threats and that is essentially a good thing. Yet, there is a downside to giving too much attention to what ails us and the world: You will surely provoke your inner cynic. Pessimism can take hold. Empathy can hide. And that’s not such a good thing. Instead, there are ways to redirect our attention that can allow us to hold what is both difficult in the world and what is beautiful.

Pay Attention to Your Attention — If there is something that truly ails our culture it is not a lack of empathy, it’s a lack of attention. We’re scattered; we’re overexposed to negative media; we’re addicted to busyness; and stress levels are chronically high. We can forget to pay attention to the very things that matter and bring us joy. It takes practice to redirect attention to the people and moments we can appreciate in our daily lives. There’s so much good in the world if we are open to seeing it.

Practice Kindfulness — Kindfulness is being aware of the present moment with heart. When difficult reactions arise, such as upsetting thoughts, uncomfortable feelings, and bodily irritations, your body is sending out important signals that it’s time to pause. Honor this innate emotional intelligence. Name the experience for what it is. For example “I’m angry.” “This is despair.” “I feel helpless.” Breathe tenderness to the sore spots and allow the moment to flow through you.

Make Room for the Inner Cynic — If you didn’t care about the wellbeing of someone or something, you wouldn’t be upset in the first place. The voice inside, the one lamenting that the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, is trying to protect the vulnerable part of you that wants so much to be safe, to belong, and to feel empowered. Your cynic is also a messenger, so listen with curiosity and an open heart. Fresh ideas will arise.

Align with Your Integrity — Amazing things can happen as a result of befriending your inner cynic. You can ask yourself: “How can I bring kindness to this moment?” “How can I love and resist at the same time?” “How can I take meaningful action?” When I think back about the Women’s March of 2017 I feel an uplift of positive emotions that still sustains me and keeps me involved about issues I care about. When you focus on what serves your highest self and that of others, the inner cynic will stay at bay.

Grow a Kind Mind — We can purposely cultivate compassion without being overcome by emotional distress. Our natural reaction to another’s suffering has a neurological correlate in the brain. In fact, the empathy network maps on a similar neural network for physical pain.

It’s no wonder we impulsively recoil, retreat, wince, numb, or faint in response to pain and suffering! This is a normal and temporary reaction. But it’s what happens next where we have control. We can learn to manage difficult emotions. It means taking gentle care of yourself by giving time to restore, rest and respond with kindfulness. Otherwise, prolonged experiences and exposure to suffering can lead to empathy fatigue and detachment (for example, among caregivers, first responders, and people living in traumatic conditions).

Cultivate Kindsight — The art is to make room for loving attention and have enough emotional perspective to keep your wits about you. I call this kindsight, or viewing life experiences with tenderness and understanding. Compassion practices, like a daily loving kindness meditation, help to broaden and cultivate warm and caring feelings toward ourselves, others, and the whole of humanity. Community practices, such as volunteering or simply helping out in the neighborhood or local school, are direct ways to put kindness in action. Compound this with a good dose of gratitude for what we can offer and do for others, and the inner cynic is sure to be quelled.

If you like what you read, please consider getting my new book The Kindness Cure for you or a friends. It’s chock full of vignettes offered by people, scientific tidbits, and practices in kindness. Thanks for your support!

Photo credit:

Nicole Mason

Illustration: Pamela Best for The Kindness Cure

Being a Kindness Warrior

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The world can at times feel like a very unkind place. The year my daughter, Josie, was twelve years old, three horrendous events occurred: the “Batman Shooting” at a movie theater where twelve people were killed and seventy wounded; the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School that left twenty- six children, teachers, and staff dead; and the Boston Marathon bombing that wounded hundreds of people and killed three. It was a year of extreme tragedy. Despite my efforts to minimize overexposure, Josie felt a real and strong fear that these things could happen to her. Lockdown drills were being done regularly at school, and she began imagining herself and her loved ones torn to bits. Josie’s heartbreaking response was to wonder aloud, “Why do people do this?” A basic dread took hold of her.

Then something sparked an awakening. In a long-jump sandpit, some kids discovered a pair of baby field mice. Josie became determined to rescue them, even though everyone knew it was a lost cause and coldly said as much. She declared, “I know they will die. At least I can give them comfort until they do.”

At her insistence, I drove Josie to the sports field as she clutched a bottle of Pedialyte and a dropper. She dashed across the track to be Nurse Nightingale. The mice were still alive, and she gently placed the pink creatures in a box of tissue. As I watched, it hit me: Josie was fully alive with her compassion for all living things. It was the act of caring itself that mattered to her. As if, by demonstrating the kindest way that she could possibly act, she could turn the world around. She gave them names as children do—Bradley and Charlotte—and carefully nursed them. One mouse died a few days later. Josie held out hope for the other but, in the end, she buried the pair in the garden. While she was frustrated that they hadn’t lived, she consoled herself with this: “At least I tried.” We were all moved by her efforts. At a time when the world felt burdened by grave issues, saddled with grief, frustration, and helplessness, Josie found healing and empowerment by demonstrating her own kindness. She showed a brutal world that she would care for the meekest of its creatures. And, in doing so, she discovered that what feels best is not evading harsh realities—it’s being kind along the way.

Excerpt from my book,  The Kindness Cure: How the Science of Compassion Can Heal Your Heart and Your World

Photo by Hanny Naibaho on Unsplash

 

If you like what you read, please consider getting The Kindness Cure book for you or a friends. It’s chock full of vignettes offered by people, scientific tidbits, and practices in kindness. Thanks for your support!

 

Love & Resist: Anniversary of Women’s March

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As we come upon the anniversary of the game changing Women’s March, I am in awe of what transpired over the last year. The most curious thing of all is what I found so despicable about our elected leader of the free world was, in fact, a very odd blessing. Light was cast on the dark shadows lurking around for so long. Not all my friends might agree with me or hold similar views, but it’s quite hard to ignore what happened over the year. #MeToo, #TimesUp, and Oprah’s amazing speech at the Golden Globes.

The times they are a-changin’.

One year ago my husband and I marched in Boston. It was nothing short of transformative. First, that my man went with me (he got into designing posters and he even gave one away to a mother and her kid on the subway so she’d have something). Second, that we became part of a peaceful tribe 175,000 strong, forming a “radical kinship” as Father Greg Boyle likes to say. Third, that we took tons of selfies together and sent them to our daughters—not only so they can confirm how their “awkward” parents are, but to see their core values in action (and what a good guy is all about).

I still have our posters in the family room and will dust them off this weekend. I didn’t get my hand-knitted pussy hat in time for last year’s march, but that hat has not seen the dust. I still wear it—and I will as long as it’s cold outside and this president is in office.

It’s not a time to be complacent. It’s a time to address the dark side with a legion of light workers. It’s not a comfortable time and nor should it be. We need to feel irritated enough to take action. The other day I was clearing my office and out of a book fell a prayer card my mother had given one of my girls: Joan of Ark. How apt!  The Novena begins: “Glorious St. Joan of Arc, filled with compassion for those who invoke you, with love for those who suffer, heavily laden with the weight of my troubles I kneel at your feet and humbly beg you to take my present need under your special protection.” The image on the front is of the armoured French girl of the 1400s, a spiritual warrior across the ages, holding her flag and sounding the call for compassion, social justice and new leadership. I believe Joan of Arc is at our sides protecting us and emboldening us right now, but mostly we have each other. Saints, angels, whistle blowers, courageous women and men… and those contrarian naysayers, too. We all belong. And we all need to evolve humanity. We can do better.

Be a kindness warrior.

My protest sign last year was on kindness. It’s been my calling and so I’ve been studying it, collecting science and story. The basis for my upcoming book has been the view that kindness is strong, not weak. It is courageous, not cowardly. It is heartful, not heartless. It’s not about being nice, agreeable, or virtuous. It’s about understanding, having boundaries, and taking reasonable action. It’s moving from empathic distress to motivational empathy. Taking a kind stance doesn’t mean giving in. One of the protest slogans seen all over the world last year was: “Feel the Rage, Be the Love.” These six small words perfectly capture both the challenge and the solution when facing difficult persons, places, or things. The meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg asks, “Why can’t we both love and resist at the same time?” This is a perfect question for our life and our times, and it forms the basis for reimagining kindness.

We all have something to stand for. For me it’s giving kindness the gravitas it deserves in the landscape of humanity. After all, we can’t survive without it. I invite you to join me. How are you going to rock your world with kindness?  

Get a FREE Rock Your World with Kindness Guide (PDF). 

 

 

Picture Your Loving Self

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The little girl in the framed photo is holding a Siberian husky pup almost too heavy for her little body. She has dark banana curls and is missing her two front teeth. The teeth were lost after a face plant on a marble coffee table a year earlier. Like a gymnast on the parallel bars, she had been swinging her body forward and back like a pendulum, her little hands grasping the carved mahogany arms of a couch and chair placed kitty corner to each other. She had been warned not to do that, of course.

The old photo rests on a small cabinet in my home office in a lovely frame set against the backdrop of a wall painted with a lavender hew called Misty Memories. My eyes scan this photo every day, along with a few photos of my daughters at various ages and other reminders of the vulnerabilities and joys in life. I’ve included my small self in my morning ‘centering practice’ for so long that I’ve virtually forgotten the original intent for placing her in my view:  Self-compassion.

What are some things you do to take care of yourself when the world seems to be falling to bits and pieces?

That’s a question I was asked recently by two amazing moms, Leslie and Tesi, founders of the Mama Bear Dares podcast. As I thought about my own life, the most tangible answer I could offer was having this little picture in my view every day. When I look at it I give an internal bow to that child who was so full of light and love and who overcame so much. It’s also turned into an acknowledgement of gratitude. It’s as if the now-me and my smaller me can wink at each other, our mutual gaze strung by delicate threads of resilience across the decades. And I always smile.

But the kicker is this: I don’t mention this practice in my book. This blind spot took me by total surprise. I have suggested this ritual to women who seek my counsel countless times.  I even suggest they find photos of themselves at various ages 3, 12, 25 and so on. For some women, this is difficult because of all the pain, shame, or regret their past can trigger. But that’s precisely the point. Loving ourselves can be very hard to do. In fact, there is so much resistance to this idea that I put my own photo out many years ago. I wanted these women to see that I do this, too.

When I shared this idea Leslie and Teri teared up. It captured their attention. Their original question was about coping with the plight of humanity but we ended up talking about self-care. It can be challenging to care for others or to find one’s bearings when the latest calamity hits your life or ambushes the airwaves. We can fall under what I call a SPEL:  Self-Protective Empathy Lethargy.  The overwhelm can shut us down and make us want to crawl under the bed. That’s where I used to hide as a kid. This is a natural and human response to threat or fear. As a way through we need to find ways to calm the fear. “Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves,” says the meditation teacher, Pema Chödrön. Many wise people insist that in order to love and care for others, we must first love and care for ourselves.

Love Includes Everyone, So Count Yourself In

Love me first? It’s a true paradox.  Self-kindness doesn’t just spring out of nowhere—it arises from being physically held by another person from the moment you were born. Envision the quintessential image of a mother with babe in arms, perhaps a memory of holding your own infant. Physiologically, a bonding process is unfolding within that image—eye gazing, rhythmic breathing, beating hearts, cooing sounds—sealing the human connection. Or imagine a beloved pet like the puppy in my photo. For me that photo is a double shot of mojo. I’m sure I didn’t even realize it when I chose to frame it for my little office altar so many years ago—before I even had a clue about the powerful emotional and physiological effects of self-compassion practice.

Such tenderness is inherently relational and has been part of our neurobiology from the start of life. But we don’t always have loving caretakers around when we need them. Sometimes we need to imagine ourselves enveloped with tenderness. Indeed, self-compassion has strong physiological elements. You can give yourself an inner hug, or embrace yourself with folded arms, or place a gentle hand over the heart. This is how you can ignite your body’s natural ability to soothe. That’s why having a photo of your smaller self can be so healing and nurturing. To seal in this self-care you can add in a personal affirmation that is authentic and true to your experience in the moment. It can be as simple as “I am strong.” “I am loveable.” “I’ve got this.” For the skeptic, you might try: “Even if this feels weird, I will be kind to myself.” Sometimes using self-talk in the third person can be helpful: “You sure were cute, kiddo.” “You are worthy of love.” “You can count on me.” The practice is meant to ignite uplifting feelings of love, tenderness, trust, protection, and well-being in relation to yourself.

When it comes to helping others just start close to home: the home of your own heart. The more you practice kindness for yourself, the more resilient—and compassionate—you become for others.

You can listen to Mama Bear Dares podcast here (Episode #146) as well as many other great conversations with women.

Learn more about my book, The Kindness Cure: How the Science of Compassion  Can Heal Your Heart and Your World.

For any one who pre-orders a book you can also get some extra goodies, like meditations downloads and affirmation images for your devices — after all we do need reminders!

Finding Comfort in an Emotional Storm: The R.A.I.N. Technique

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As human beings living in the limitations in living in our physical bodies it is natural that we can find ourselves with strong reactions. After all, the body has a tendency to resonate with the energies in the environment, too. People, places, and things all hold energy. Your true self, your loving intentions, and soul purpose can get camouflaged by negative vibrations from worry, panic, exhaustion, anger and so on, or that of the people around you. This can cause disconnection. These triggers can also flare up an inner critical voice, who can wreak havoc on your sense of self. This is the voice who reprimands you, says you are not good enough, or admonishes you with, “Who do you think you are….”  for wanting, needing, desiring something new, fresh, alive and loving.

The acronym R.A.I.N. is a helpful kindfulness tool for just such moments. It can be a salve for those times when you are caught under a spell of negativity, which can happen naturally when feeling overwhelmed or overly critical, and consumed with anxiety, fear or uncertainty.

You can use RAIN in a difficult moment to cultivate a deeper connection and direct experience to the world.

Let’s go through each step.

R. The R in RAIN stands for recognize — recognize what’s going on in the body, and consciously noticing in any given moment the strong emotions, thoughts or sensations that are arising… and doing so in a way without judgment.

Recognizing can be as simple as a silent nod, or a mental whisper, noticing that a reaction is occurring. It can be helpful to name the experience such as: “This is anger” or “I’m feeling frustrated” or “I’m just so tired.” “Oh that’s my inner bully acting up.”

A. The A in RAIN stands for allow — allowing means letting the thoughts, emotions or sensations simply be there… applying loving attention to your body… it doesn’t mean we have to agree with the inner critic or like the situation at hand. It simply means that we can honestly acknowledge the arising of any judgment, as well as the uncomfortable or painful feelings that percolate underneath.

Instead of trying to suppress the experience, or resist, avoid or repel, we can soften into it with the quality of kindfulness, and not get caught up in the thoughts or the emotions.

Rather it is about saying “Yes, this is what’s happening right now.” “It’s OK.” “Take a moment here and just be.” We can tell our inner bully to go take a seat in the corner. This is a time out.

I. The I in RAIN stands for investigate — to investigate your experience with kindness and care. Once we recognize and allow what is arising we can become curious, and call on our natural ability to inquire. Tapping your inner detective and asking yourself, “What most wants my attention right now?” “How am I experiencing this reaction in my body?”  “What is my inner critic telling me, or trying to warn me about? Am I believing it? Is it true?”

You can reflect: “How can I bring kindness to this moment?”

It is essential to take a non-judgmental attitude and move away from trying to interpret or overthink. Instead, bring your awareness to the felt sense in the body and allow direct experience or connection in the moment.  The body is an exquisite emotional radar system with important information and clues. You may notice over time that there is an incredibly wise and quiet voice inside. An attitude of care helps to cultivate a sense of safety and understanding. You begin to befriend yourself as you would care for a dear friend in need.

N. The last letter in RAIN stands for nurture or nourish. We can intentionally care for the vulnerable and wounded places inside. You can ask: What does this place deep inside me need most? Reassurance? Respect? Forgiveness? Friendship? Love?

N can also stand for what some meditation teachers call non-attachment. This means cultivating an ability to take a step back and having some distance from the reactivity. This means not getting hijacked by difficult emotions (the brain’s flight or fight reaction) or being harassed by mind’s incessant commentary. Instead, you can be a benevolent caretaker just as you might care for a small child. In this way, you’re not fused with or defined by the reactivity; instead you adopt a sense of care, ease and compassion.

RAIN allows you to find refuge from the emotional storm by a very deep inner sense of peace, comfort, and homecoming. When you are at home in your center you can intentionally choose who you want to be, how you want to act, and what kind of world you want to live in.  And that is rather refreshing!

 

To listen to these instructions you may download an Audio version.

The R.A.I.N. Technique – guided instruction (7 min)

 

 

The RAIN technique was originally offered by senior meditation teacher Michelle McDonald and is frequently taught by my mentor Tara Brach, PhD.  There are a number of variations of this technique. See what works for you.

 

Photo by Kostas Katsouris on Unsplash