I have got into the habit of having around me something to read which will bring a wider perspective to my journey to find compassion for self.

I’ve been hooked to a book called “Consolations” by David Whyte in recent weeks.

In his wonderful book of prose, David Whyte takes everyday words, and explains them as a consolation for where we are today, in the present, rather than where we are trying to be.

I have come to realise that I am not searching for improvement on my journey to love self, nor am I searching for a cure, I am searching to accept the present situation of my life which at any given time can be light and shade and quite possibly a range of these extremes on any given day.

I was drawn to his chapter on “Pain” because it is not a book that you read from page 1 – I just dip in and out of the various words which he has presented as his titles.

First thing to note to self, is that I was drawn to his chapter on “pain” – that’s interesting in itself – will there be a cure even though I’m not supposed to be looking for a cure?

Pain, he says “is the doorway to the here and now”

How wise am I? – I have found the right page after all.

His words force me to be expansive in my thinking and gentle and kind to self in the context of his unraveling of everyday words.

Words which have previously locked me in from being able to fully love myself and previously caused me to hope, that somehow, someone else will do the work of finding compassion for me.

I have noticed in recent weeks that my acceptance of the tumultuous emotional struggle which is ongoing in my life, has enabled me to recognise, accept and comfort the pain which I see in others so that I can bring to an end my narrative of expectation in others.

It is one of the profoundest insights into my journey of self, which I have mentioned previously through my writing, that accepting the pain in self with compassion, is a key enabler to being able to empathize with the pain of others, especially those whom we love the most.

My next blog will be: Yuk

William Defoe