“Tend to your vital heart

and all you worry about

will be solved”

Rumi

I wanted to open this post with Rumi’s words as an exploration of the meaning “tending to our hearts”. The thought resonates deeply with two of the Yamas (ethical values or principles) in the yoga teachings: Ahimsa or non-violence and Satya or truthfulness. My inner yogi pays careful attention to these two, because after decades of depression, one can get truly violent against oneself. This happens when we believe the stories we tell ourselves -over and over again- that are born from our fear and shame. Tending to the heart is not something that comes naturally to me. For as long as I can remember I was told I needed to be the best at everything; that I needed to be strong and self-sufficient. As I grew up I realized that I would never be good enough. No matter what I would accomplish, I felt like a cup that could not be filled, I felt that I wasn’t enough.

I learned about Ahimsa and Satya a few years ago, during my yoga teacher training. The concept of non-violence was easy to grasp when applied to others, but when the teacher asked us to check in what ways are we being violent against ourselves, my heart sank. The violence held in my thoughts became obvious. Then when we started discussing about the concept of truthfulness, I had to get honest with myself. I spent weeks observing my thoughts and questioning the veracity of those that would sound harmful. Was I really all the bad things I thought? Why have I always felt like I was competing with this “otherness” in the world that I must be better than? Was I even aware of whom I was trying to please?

To say that several nervous breakdowns/spiritual awakenings happened during the five months of my training is definitely accurate. I even coined the term “combustive crying”!! Nevertheless, I am grateful for the lessons and the safe space our teachers provided; because by the time The Mother showed up I knew I had some more soul searching to do. I was presented with the opportunity to understand how did I get lost in a sea of “not-enoughness” and what did I truly believed about myself.

I took a dive into my family’s emotional patterns and realized that I come from a lineage of women that love fiercely AND hurt deeply. If I have learned anything on my journey is that when we cannot allow space for our own pain, we will constantly look for ways to rid ourselves of it. Usually by hurting others. This was one of the first patterns I learned about myself, when I was in therapy during my mid twenties. I became aware of how feeling vulnerable will trigger a survival instinct to hurt before being hurt. It was something that became most obvious in my romantic relationships. The reason and logic for this behavior runs deep on both sides of my family but the origin for this pain, has become untraceable to me. It is simply a part of our reality. So when I started roaring with anger as I walked through my own history of pain, it became obvious that the edges of my soul were too sharp and blood thirsty to allow any further healing.

I spent a long time wondering how to find a bridge between the darkest shades of my emotions and feeling whole again. To give in to rage was tempting, but limiting on how to move forward. Such indulgent behavior will only create more pain and perpetuate the hurting pattern I am very much aware of. Self-hatred and deprecation are a common response to those who suffer from depression. Shame is the shield where the nastiest most hateful voices in our minds reside.

The logic answer was to bring compassion to the table. I had to make a conscious effort to see the good within and, once again, open space to soften. My problem with compassion is that it requires no further action but to just be. Compassion doesn’t ask for us to protect, resolve, fix, avenge or even heal. So when looking at self-compassion, it became clear that it just required one thing of me: to sit wherever I may be and ACCEPT. This is why I am much better friends with anger. Anger DEMANDS action where compassion just opens the door to anger’s counter-emotion: GRIEF. Grief just wants you to “stop doing” and dissolve in whatever it is your soul is mourning for.

Even today as I write these words, I struggle. It is hard to loosen the grip my mind has over me. It feels counter intuitive to just accept the parts of me that may never heal or change. I believe the image of The Mother was meant to be that bridge between the darkness and light within. She has offered me an invitation to practice acceptance and surrender. The Mother shows me that there is an infinite source of love within each and every single one of us. It doesn’t matter how hard, how deep or how dark we’ve fallen; we have the capacity to love ourselves back to life again. Self-compassion is yet another act of rebellion towards the loud voices of our mind. It reminds us that is ok to not having it together all the time, that to fall and makes mistakes is part of this journey. WE.ARE.SIMPLY.HUMAN.

However, compassion works both ways and if we are going to look at ourselves with kinder and more generous eyes, we need to do the same for those who have hurt us. I am not saying “forgive and forget”, what I mean is that the lens of compassion has made me see that what was done to me, was not because I deserved it or because I was not worthy. What had happened to me was done by someone who is hurting too. I will never excuse or condone his actions, but I understand that pain is a chain reaction that goes generations back in our family and all I can do, is try to stop it from moving forward.

Self-compassion has become the voice of reason and a guide to find purpose in my rage. The Mother is not only a “character” in my mind but a place I go to seek refuge and rest. Just like any loving representation of the mother archetype in any tradition, my own inner Mother is ever forgiving and accepting. She is the one that reminds me that I am worthy and I am loved by something larger than our human selves. Through her eyes, I can see the darkness and sharp edges and bathe them with light. Through her arms, I hold the little girl I was and pass the wisdom to the warrior I am now. Through her strength, I discover my own resilience and will to carry on. The Mother is the call that reminds us the sacredness of the lives we were given.

The Mother is where I tend to my vital heart and all my worries will dis-solve.

• A great book to better understand how to accept the “messy” parts of ourselves:

  Braving The Wilderness - Brené Brown

• On Celtic Mythology and traditions:

  If Women Rose Rooted - Sharon Blackie

• A great compilation on traditional stories of cultures around the globe and the archetypes they represent in our collective psyche:

  Women Who Run With Wolves - Clarissa Pinkola Estés