Mary’s story was a wake-up call for me. Would I ever call a friend “dumb” or “stupid” or an “idiot”? No! Inspired by her words, I took up the practice of what Buddhists call metta which means loving-kindness or friendliness. The usual instruction for cultivating metta is to start with yourself. So I did.
Then I got sick and that “new me” unraveled. In 2001, I contracted a viral infection while on a trip to Paris. In fact, because I’m mostly house-bound and often bed-bound, it has cost me dearly in many ways.
The first few years after becoming sick, I blamed myself for not recovering—as if not regaining my health were a failure of will, somehow, or a deficit of character. This is a common reaction for people to have toward their illness. (It’s not surprising, given the barrage of advertising claims that suggest we can stay forever young and illness free, but if illness does strike, it’s easily fixed with the right prescription drug.)
My inner critic was back with a vengeance, engaging in just the kind of self-talk that Mary Orr had described:
“You look like a fool to your colleagues by not getting better.”
“You’ve ruined your family’s life.”
It took me years to realize that talking to myself in this way not only added mental suffering to the physical suffering of the illness, but also made my physical symptoms worse. After all, emotions are felt in the body.
And so, with Mary Orr’s story still vivid in my mind, I began again. I tried to catch self-critical thoughts as soon as they arose. Then, without judgment (after all, we can’t control what thoughts pop into our minds), I used a calm and gentle voice to turn those thoughts around. Initially, this new voice felt fake, but I persisted, following another basic metta instruction: even if it doesn’t feel genuine at first, do it, because you’re still planting a seed. Surely enough, gradually, that voice did become genuine. And, as it became genuine, the negative self-talk began to fade, eventually losing its grip on me.
“You look like a fool to your colleagues by not getting better,” became “It’s so hard to give up a career that I love so dearly.”
“You’ve ruined your family’s life,” became “Unexpected things happen in life; we’re in bodies and, despite our best efforts, sometimes they get sick.”
It’s been almost ten years since I got sick. I still hope I’ll wake up tomorrow with my health restored. But should that not happen, I feel fortunate that it won’t affect my friendship with myself. It’s iron-clad now. It’s unconditional.
Note: The theme of this article is expanded on in Chapter 16 (“Compassion: Start with Yourself”) of my book, How to Wake Up: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide to Navigating Joy and Sorrow. The chapter includes an exercise on learning how to transform your inner critic.
© 2011 Toni Bernhard www.tonibernhard.com
Toni Bernhard is the author of the award-winning How to Be Sick: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide for the Chronically Ill and Their Caregivers. Her new book is titled How to Wake Up: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide to Navigating Joy and Sorrow. Until forced to retire due to illness, Toni was a law professor and served as dean of students at the University of California—Davis. Her popular blog, “Turning Straw Into Gold” is hosted by Psychology Today online. She can be found online at www.tonibernhard.com.