Personal change doesn’t come overnight, and it doesn’t come easily. The secret to making meaningful, sustainable change in our lives is to practice compassion and self-acceptance. The goal shouldn’t be to rush the process, but to recognize and appreciate that it is occurring.
Anyone who has ever tried to create a change in themself — whether it be banishing something negative or inviting something positive — knows it is hard work, and it doesn’t happen all at once. We have to practice inviting the change, and rather than demanding it, we have to encourage it.
Be a friend of the change you want to manifest in yourself. Nourish it, coax it gently, and show it that it has a welcoming place to stay.
On the other hand, personal change isn’t something we can force — or, at least we can’t be surprised if pure force doesn’t result in the outcomes we are looking for. There’s no point in berating ourselves when we don’t live up to our self-imposed standards.
Instead of pushing our way into change radically, or punishing ourselves when it doesn’t come quickly enough or take permanent root at once, I suggest we simply practice acknowledging its visit and accepting it for what it is.
Ah, there you are, my friend. It’s good to see you.
Just like that. No judgement. No snippy it’s about time. No sarcastic nice of you to come around. Just…like greeting a beloved friend, give it a warm embrace. Don’t ask where it’s been, or why it hasn’t been by to see you in a while.
See, the kinder we are to the visitors we want to come and linger, and the more we simply sit in fellowship with them, the more inclined they will be to stay.
Like a houseguest, our better selves will wander away from time to time. They are not our prisoners; they are not here because we demand it.
If we berate our welcomed guests for leaving or say we can’t exist without their presence, we become the pushy, overbearing or codependent host they are less likely inclined to revisit.
If, instead, we welcome them anew every time we see them, offer up a warm seat and comfortable conversation, the more often they’ll come back and the longer they’ll stay.
There you are, my friend. It’s good to see you.
[Longer version]
Personal change doesn’t come overnight, and it doesn’t come easily. The secret to making meaningful, sustainable change in our lives is to practice compassion and self-acceptance. The goal shouldn’t be to rush the process, but to recognize and appreciate that it is occurring.
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Our minds are the houses in which our most innate selves dwell. Who we invite to visit does not necessarily reflect who we fundamentally are or become, but it does influence who else might visit. We don’t always have the choice of who comes to call on us, but we can be mindful of who feels most welcome to stay.
At some points in my life, for various reasons, I’ve made the habit of letting anger be a frequent guest. I indulged in its visits, made my home a welcome place for it, and it gradually became a long-term tenant.
And when anger was inside my home, others — and I speak both figuratively and literally — didn’t want to visit. Love, acceptance, tolerance, and peace didn’t seem to come by quite as often. Neither did people who enjoyed the companionship of these friends.
Anger didn’t have to be in my house for these friends to stay away. When we know one is a close friend to someone we’d rather not encounter, we begin to stay away lest that unwanted acquaintance comes knocking while we’re visiting.
And I knew anger was not a guest I wanted to over-stay, or to make me a home others avoided visiting.
So I worked on myself. I learned to sit with anger when it came around, to question and really examine it, and to understand why it came into my life so frequently.
And I worked on becoming a place anger didn’t want to visit. I didn’t banish it — when we pretend not to be home some visitors will just knock louder, more insistently until we allow them in — but I stopped pulling up a chair, offering anger a meal, or indulging in long conversations with it.
I decided to change.
Anyone who has ever tried to create a change in themself — whether it be banishing something negative or inviting something positive — knows it is hard work, and it doesn’t happen all at once. We have to practice inviting the change, and rather than demanding it, we have to encourage it.
To go back to my story, anger didn’t wander away one time, never to return. Its visits became more infrequent, shorter in duration, and we had less to say to one another.
It still stops by, of course. It knows when I leave the light on for it, when I forget to close the door.
The same can be said for every unwanted guest I’ve tried to grow away from: overindulging in food or drink, negative thought spirals, anxiety and worry, jealousy and pettiness and judgment and self-doubt.
At the same time, I made the conscious choice to be a more welcoming host to those friends I did want to come by and stay a while.
Be a friend of the change you want to manifest in yourself. Nourish it, coax it gently, and show it that it has a welcoming place to stay. It can’t be forced, and there’s no point in berating ourselves when we don’t live up to our self-imposed standards, because that lets unwanted guests — anger, frustration, impatience — back in the door.
The opposite is true, too — personal change isn’t something we should set ourselves up to expect a reward for. If we have to persuade change to visit by incentivizing its visit with a door prize, is it coming for the right reasons?
Rather than celebrate or reward ourselves for positive behaviors or change, I suggest we simply practice acknowledging its visit and accepting it for what it is.
Ah, there you are, my friend. It’s good to see you.
Just like that. No judgement. No snippy it’s about time. No sarcastic nice of you to come around. Just…like greeting a beloved friend, give it a warm embrace. Don’t ask where it’s been, or why it hasn’t been by to see you in a while.
See, the kinder we are to the visitors we want to come and linger, and the more we simply sit in fellowship with them, the more inclined they will be to stay
Like a houseguest, our better selves will wander away from time to time — just as those visitors we don’t want will still occasionally call. They are not our prisoners; they are not here (or not here) because we demand it.
If we berate our welcomed guests for leaving or say we can’t exist without their presence, we become the pushy, overbearing or codependent host they are less likely inclined to revisit.
If, instead, we welcome them anew every time we see them, offer up a warm seat and comfortable conversation, the more often they’ll come back and the longer they’ll stay.
There you are, my friend. It’s good to see you.
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