This is the newsletter version of Sara by the Season, where I explore a little bit of everything that’s on my mind as I try to lean into nature’s wisdom and rhythms. You can listen to me read you the newsletter by hitting play above - or you can click the little link above right to play in your favorite podcast player. If you know someone who would like this sort of thing, I’d be so grateful if you would share it!
For my birthday last year, the kids gave me a giant yoga mat. I was using it the other day and realized again how much I love it because it is so roomy that I almost have to work to fall off of it. When I roll out my huge yoga mat, I feel like I have all the room in the world. I don’t have to restrict or restrain myself.
A few weeks ago, I had my first in-person work event since before the pandemic, and I had to wear business attire. I put on a suit and threw a toddler-style fit at how uncomfortable it was. I wore something else, and then once the event was over, I spent a few hours going through my closet and donating everything that was too small or made me feel cramped. My uncomfortable clothes tantrum reminded me of Laura’s must-read post years ago about the tyranny of tight pants.
I read this a few years ago:
And I’ve thought about it ever since. What would it be like to have a routine baggy enough to live in? That sounds amazing.
But it isn’t just clothes and routines and yoga mats. I’ve grown sick of anything that feels like I have to bite my tongue or restrict myself. I know that part of being an adult means that you have to restrain yourself at times, but I can’t help but think that our world would be better if more of us (especially of the non-asshole variety) took up more space and let our full selves hang all the way out.
From a young age, I’ve been rewarded for hard work, competence, and general “good girl-ness.” These days, I think all of those things are vastly overrated in our culture, which doesn’t mean that there aren’t benefits to those things; just that I don’t think they’re the peak of human achievement that I’ve been led to believe.
However.
The tentacles of those values run deep and untangling them will probably take the rest of my life (and then some). A thing I’ve been doing as a way of dismantling some of these achievement-obsessed identities is to ask myself: could I make this thing a little roomier? Could I give myself some more space? Could I try doing this thing a little softer? Could I do this thing with a little more ease? Could I let good enough be good enough?
If we are, as I believe, made good from the very beginning, we have to let go of the idea that our worth comes from what we do instead of who we inherently are. Asking myself if I could make the roomier, gentler choice helps remind me of my own inherent worth – and the magical, mysterious thing is that kindness toward myself spills over to how I treat others too.
We think that we have to push ourselves harder to accomplish our goals or beat ourselves up to motivate ourselves, but the science of self-compassion is really helpful here. Actual research shows that more self-compassion does the following: increases motivation, boosts happiness, improves body image, enhances self-worth, fosters resilience, and decreases stress and anxiety.
The queen of self-compassion, Dr. Kristin Neff, writes
This nurturing quality [of self-compassion] allows us to be less concerned with what is happening in our experience—whether it’s painful, difficult, challenging, or disappointing—and to be more focused on how we’re relating to it. We learn to be with ourselves in a new way. Rather than being lost in and engulfed by our pain, we’re compassionate to ourselves because we’re in pain. The care and concern that we extend to ourselves allows us to feel safe and accepted. When we open our hearts to what is, it generates a level of warmth that helps heal our wounds.
When I teach about the need for self-compassion, I always feel like I’m getting some side eyes. We’re so stuck in the muck of self-criticism and hyper individualism that we think it’s a weakness to cut ourselves a bit of slack, to lighten up, to ease up.
I like to tell students two stories about a young boy that comes home with a D on his math test:
In the first story, the boy’s dad berates him when the boy shows him the test, yelling at him that he is a failure, asking how he could have been so stupid, saying how he’ll never amount to anything.
In the second story, the boy’s dad sits down with him to talk about the test. He asks if he studied for the test. He asks how he can help support him to do better the next time. He reminds him that he loves him and that everyone makes mistakes.
Now everyone that I’ve ever told this story to has been appalled at the first dad and cheered on the second dad, but think about the way you speak to yourself. My bet is that you’re much more like the first dad when you talk to yourself than you are the second. What if you tried being roomier, softer, more tender - more like the second dad - with yourself? I figure I’ve tried the harsh critic way for around 30 years or so, so it’s worth a shot trying the other way for at least a decade?
Rants and raves
👍 I gave up Instagram (and Facebook, but that isn’t that big of a deal for me) for Lent. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this at some point, but wowzers was that a great decision.
👎 My senator this week.
👎A million deaths from Covid milestone that the US passed this week. More than the Civil War in half the time. I can’t help but agree with Peter:
Stuff worth sharing this week
I’ve referenced this article in a half a dozen conversations in the last week. Don’t let the title dissuade you from reading. It explains so much about where we are if you ask me.
NPR correspondent, Tim Mak’s reporting from Ukraine and his morning update threads.
Discovered this practice this week, and it arrived just on time. 10/10 highly recommend.
Cheers to making roomier, easier, softer choices in the week ahead,
Sara
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