Neuroscience Nuggets #4: The Science Of Self-Compassion

I like to know what I’m having for lunch before I land at the office. 

The reason is that I have a short window between clients and that time is precious. 

On this particular Tuesday morning, my plan was to pick up a salad at my favorite neighborhood spot on my walk over to work. 

I already knew that the Thai noodle salad I had in mind would pair well with the mushroom soup leftover from yesterday’s lunch. (By the way, am I the only person,  who does this, dream up lunch plans at 9am?)

Anyhow, as I walked by my favorite spot I saw someone sitting outside I wanted to avoid. He's close with someone I no longer have any contact with. I didn't want any potential awkwardness, so I picked up my pace and let my adored salad fade into the distance. 
 

I continued on, undeterred, and my eyes lit up as I remembered another great spot for salads. But when I got to that bakery I discovered a barren display case where the salads usually reside. It was too early. My plans were foiled once again!

Arriving salad-less to my office I heard myself saying “Zeva! Why you were so weak? You should have been more brave and got what you wanted! Now you need to go out again! You don’t have time for that!”

I could feel my throat tensing up, and feelings of weakness, inadequacy, and not-enough-ness coursing through my body. 

And then I remembered this neuroscience nugget I wanted to share with you: negative self-talk is the worst possible thing you can do to yourself.  It is toxic as all hell. 

Scientific evidence shows that speaking to ourselves harshly, judging ourselves negatively, being unforgiving whenever we feel we like we’ve made a mistake, does exactly the opposite of what we think that kind of self-policing will do. 

Harsh self-criticism doesn’t motivate us. It does just the reverse: it convinces us there’s something wrong with us, that we’re flawed, weak, less valuable and less worthy than other people. 

Those beliefs lead to emotions like shame and guilt. Since those feelings feel like crap, we'll resort to anything to numb ourselves from them. Like giving into whatever immediate, mood-repairing, instant gratification we can find (more social media browsing, more Netflix, more snacks, more procrastination, more negative speak). It’s a very slippery slope. 

When our mindset tells us that we are broken and weak it makes it hard to tap into our willpower, our strength, our convictions, our purpose. By repeating those beliefs over and over and over, we just reinforce our sense of brokenness and weakness. 

So how do we change that pattern? 

When we shift the question around and ask ourselves "How can I make it easier to tap into my willpower, my strength, my motivation and my sense of purpose?" the answer becomes clear: 

It’s not through criticism and self-judgement, but through self-compassion and encouragement. 

Basically by speaking to yourself the way you would speak to your best friend. 

So if my best friend told me her salad story, I’d say something like:

“Listen, darling, you wanted to avoid a complex conversation. You wanted to preserve your energy for more important things. You protected yourself from a body budget energy withdrawal. Getting out of the office to grab something will be good for you. You’ll get some fresh air and a change of scenery. And who knows, maybe you’ll even use this story in one of your neuroscience nuggets newsletters.” 

PS. There are some amazing resources and references to the science of self-compassion so if you’re interested in going further you can start here with this wonderful TedX talk by self-compassion expert Dr. Kristen Neff. Her website also has a self-compassion test you can take with exercises to help increase your self-compassion self-talk. 

PPS. Another self-compassion mentor of mine is Tara Brach, who wrote an exceptional book all about it called Radical Compassion. 

Photo by Giulia Bertelli on Unsplash

Serena of the south west

What’s it like to realize that you’re not the person you thought you were halfway through your life? 

Exhilarating? 

Terrifying? 

Liberating? 

Nauseating? 

All of the above?

Let me tell you something about a little discovery I made this summer: I’m good at sports. 

That’s right. I AM ATHLETIC.

You see, I always thought that I was terrible at sports. That my world was with the “artists,” the creatives, the intellectual misfits, the indie rockers. 

This belief started in Junior High School. When I was a shy and uncomfortably overweight pre-teen who’s parents had recently divorced. 

I had been playing the violin for a couple of years in elementary school at my mom’s urging. When it was time to chose a Junior High School my mom convinced me to apply to Mark Twain For the Gifted and Talented (I kid you not, that was the name!!). A special public school that bussed kids in from all over Brooklyn. 

You had to have a “talent” to get in. And I got in with my violin playing (which actually sounded more like cats screeching to an agonizing death).  

The rest of my friends from elementary school made it into the “Dance and Athletics” programs.

From the very moment I was selected for music, I became certain that I couldn’t also be athletic. There was a lot of proof in the pudding—as a chubby prepubescent kid I couldn’t climb a rope or do arm lifts to save my life. 

I wasn’t part of the confident, athletic crew. I belonged with the creative, sensitive crowd. 

Over the course of my life, I’ve experimented with lots of physical activities from swimming and jogging to yoga. But me, athletic, not in a million years. 

That’s just not part of my identity. That’s not of my DNA. 

But this summer something shifted. I decided to take some tennis lessons while vacationing in the south of France in the small village where my mother-in-law lives.


I signed up for a course with the 73-year-old French coach named Jean Pierre who was my husband’s coach as a kid and is still kicking it strong! 

My motivation? If I’m being honest with you, << Test First Name >>, I though it was a legitimate escape from my motherly commitments and a chance to take in some fresh mountain air. Plus my son and my husband are tennis-obsessed and it was a way to taste their world and see what all of the fuss was about. 

Thirty minutes into my first course, after Jean-Pierre showed me how to hold the racket, how to position my body in order to hit the ball at the right angle, he stopped our training and came up to the net. 

He said, “Are you sure you’ve never played tennis before? You’re really good at this.” 

And then he went on:

“You pick things up quickly.”

“You’re determined.”

“You observe and adapt quickly.”

“You’ve got great sense perception.”

“You’ve got personality.”

I laughed at his compliments a bit awkwardly, but still let them linger in my mind. 

What he said about me didn’t totally surprised me. He was pointing out parts of my character and personal narrative that I believe are true, but that I've never applied to tennis. 

I saw myself in the person he described even though the context was unfamiliar.

You see, << Test First Name >>, you and I have inherent skills and talents that we think are reserved for certain contexts, certain vocations, certain professions. 

But what happens if we decide to apply them elsewhere, in a field that excites us but that’s totally unknown? 

What if we can actually thrive using our inherent skills in a space that’s foreign? What does that say about us?

What parts of our identity lay dormant because we haven’t yet decided to experiment who we are in a new environment?

I don’t plan on becoming the next Serena Williams, but I do have a tennis class this Friday that I’m excited about because it’s a new chapter in my life that makes me feel alive in a completely different way. 

What inherent character traits can you plant in a new pot?

Maybe you’ll realize you’re more than who you think you are. 

That there are sub plots to the narrative of your life that are waiting to be explored. 

Self-love summer roadtrip

What if this summer became your self-loving springboard to the rest of the year? A map to your emerging tastes and desires that you can unpack once the pace picks up again in the Fall.

Summer is a prolonged, precious break from reality. A time when routines change. When everything slows down. When you give new things a try. Reconnect with friends and family. Hike, swim, drink litres of rosé. 

But how many times has summer’s special glow been zapped away your first day back home? 

What if this year you decided to freeze-frame summer’s most essential parts and use this season to truly get to know yourself?

Since the stakes are low and the pace is slow, summer is the ideal time to dissect your daily decisions to see who or what’s driving your everyday moves. 

Who’s really calling the shots?

Is it the “true” you? 

Is it what you think people expect of you?

Is it what your family wants? 

Is it what you think looks great on Instagram?

Start practicing your decision-making skills on decisions that don’t matter much.

The best way to build muscle for those big decisions down the road (e.g. changing careers, starting a business, going back to school) is to start getting familiar with the real you.

The one that isn’t performing for others. The one that isn’t searching for recognition. The one that isn’t taking care of everyone else or living up to other people’s expectations. 

The best time to find that person is when the stakes are low. When the biggest decision on the line is what ice cream to order (not to say that ice cream isn’t a serious matter!).

So if you want to try out some new sensations and get to know yourself better join me on this Self-Love Summer Road Trip 2019.