The Compassion Bench for self-compassion.
No matter what you've done,
No matter how loud that voice of judgment might be,
No matter how much quitting feels like an answer,
There is a place of compassion and understanding,
Even for yourself.
A bench.
A compassion bench.
A bench that sits in a warm,
Cozy place.
A quiet place where you can hear yourself and take a break.
Where there's some grace available.
Let's go there now.
The wind whispers eerily in your ear as you trudge through a winter field.
Here sits desolation,
Isolation,
Tall brown grasses shorn to the ground,
Small rocks exposed.
The ground crunches beneath your feet and you brace against a biting cold.
There is nothing here for you.
The fields slope up for a while and then down for a while and you forge on alone.
Your feet pinch against the cold leather of your boots and you wish you had worn thicker socks.
Something cold and wet grazes your nose,
A snowflake.
You look up and you see a few more floating silently down.
That metallic whiff before a snowstorm has been lingering in the air,
But you have miles to go to your destination.
Will you get trapped?
It's already mid-afternoon and the light is fading.
Your pace quickens.
Two brown rabbits cross your path as snowflakes quicken and multiply.
It would be beautiful if the snow didn't bring danger.
You watch the little furry creatures hopping away and envy them their warmth.
As the wind picks up,
The flakes sting your face and it's getting difficult to see.
The field is quickly disappearing under the white blanket.
What will happen to you?
At your thin gloves,
Your fingers burn with cold.
You ask yourself why you didn't put on warmer clothes and you sigh in frustration.
But you keep moving.
You just keep moving in this cold place.
A blue glow settles over the darkening landscape and you wonder if you will see civilization again as you trip over a large stone and fall to the ground,
Face pressed against the light,
Cold fluff.
When you rise again,
Snow covers you and you brush off as much as you can.
To your surprise,
You soon find yourself in a pine wood.
Large fir trees arching over you.
Your white coating getting thicker.
You don't know this forest and you consider turning back.
But something catches your eye deeper in the woods.
A little orange glow.
As you focus your gaze,
There sits a little cottage.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
It's getting harder to walk now,
But you march yourself to this brown dark home that nestles against a small hill in the forest.
Smoke rises from the chimney and two rocking chairs sit on the porch near the door.
As you are about to knock,
You see a little note pinned to the door.
It reads,
I have gone for the next few days.
Please enter and treat this place as your own.
Keep safe from the storm,
Whoever you are.
You're not sure what to make of it.
How could someone be so kind?
Was this a trick?
But it's getting colder,
So you try the doorknob.
It opens on the first try and as you walk in,
The warmth envelops you and you smell wood burning.
Closing the door,
You stand in the silence of the mud room.
Just to be sure,
You call out to see if anyone is home.
Silence answers back.
You remove your snow covered coat and boots and hat and gloves and you make your way into the room where the glow is coming from.
A fire blazes in the stone fireplace.
A couple well-worn lounge chairs sit in the corners and just in front of the fire awaits a wooden bench.
It's been made with care.
White,
Solid,
With a red cushion.
It's a perfect spot to rest and probably big enough to sleep on.
You wonder to yourself if a gnome or elf lives here.
After you peek into the small bedroom at the back and the kitchen nook to the right,
You determine you are truly alone.
You make yourself a cup of tea and sit down on the cozy bench.
As you admire the thick lit candles on the windows,
You spy wool socks at the edge of the bench and you put them on gratefully and settle in with a blanket.
After a few moments,
You peek outside and actually appreciate the beauty of the white flakes sailing down in the darkening evening.
With your warm mug,
Thick socks,
Candlelight,
And warmth,
You feel kinder here.
As you smile a quiet smile,
You realize there is someone that you'd like to invite here.
Someone who would love it here.
Someone that you value but don't always understand.
Someone you'd like to forgive.
That person is you.
It's that version of you that is struggling,
That feels not worthy,
That feels judged and feels hitting the wall.
You are ready to welcome that version of you here to this place of quiet and compassion.
Who knows what could happen?
You invite them now to join you.
You see that version of yourself sit down next to you on this bench and you turn back to the fire.
The two of you sit in this place in silence,
Facing the flames and you let them be and breathe.
Whatever comes up for you,
Confusion,
Judgment,
Frustration,
You accept it.
You also accept whatever is there in that version of you,
Discouragement,
Resignation,
Anger.
As the two of you sit,
You can feel that version of you relax.
So it's time to listen.
You are ready to listen to whatever it is that is ready to be understood about that version of you.
What is it that that version of you needs?
What is it they have a hard time asking for?
Your understanding of them keeps opening and opening and this clarity empowers you and stabilizes you.
What would make things better for this version of you?
It's okay if this is awkward at first.
It's okay if some feelings rise up.
Let all that come and be what it is.
You can still decide to stay open and to listen.
You can still decide to stay open and to listen.
You can still decide to stay open and to listen and so you do.
And you realize there is one thing that would truly help them,
Truly help you.
One thing in particular that would make things better,
That would quiet the voices of judgment,
That would get them back on track somehow.
You might not be able to offer this in real life.
That's okay.
You can offer it here on this compassion bench.
So bring it into being.
Whatever it is that would help them.
A sense of celebration,
Self-trust,
Friendship,
Permission to wiggle,
Acknowledgement of some kind,
Grace,
Bunnies.
Just the right information.
A lemon tart with Earl Grey tea.
Decide to conjure it.
Let it grow vivid by noticing a detail.
And then another one.
Feel the satisfying power you have to create this now.
Even if it's awkward and things come up for you.
You're stretching.
So turn towards this version of you.
Take them in.
And then offer them this gift.
If they need.
This might feel a little strange.
That's okay.
Keep offering.
Soon,
This version of you is full.
They have what they need.
They're thankful.
Can you feel that?
They are thankful and satisfied.
They take your hand and silently bow their head in appreciation.
As you bow your head as well,
You feel as though an important loop has been closed.
Instead of looking outside yourself,
You gave yourself what you needed.
Your heart feels steadier,
Sturdier as you watch that version of you smile and fade into the ether.
And you are left with the crackles of the fire and the wind outside the window from the snowstorm.
As you stare at the flames,
You place your hands on your heart.
You appreciate this moment just as it is.
A deep kind of rest settles in your belly.
You take another sip of tea and you know that you can do this anytime you want.
You can embrace versions of yourself,
Even different ages of yourself,
Anytime.
You're good at this.
As you contemplate your growing inner resilience,
You lie down on the bench for a cozy winter sleep.
Is
