Tenderness

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Indeed, scientists from Darwin to Ekman suggest tenderness like this honors familial bonds. Yet by now I hope you’re recognizing that your potential for micro-moments of love is far greater. Each time you encounter another—or yourself—you have the opportunity to do so with tenderness and warmth, and with relaxed openness and goodwill. The goal of this chapter, and indeed part II of this book, is to provide specific tools for expanding the circle of those with whom you share the warmth and tenderness of love. Preparatory Practices As you read through part II, you’ll notice that most of the practices that I recommend to seed love are solo activities. They are activities you can undertake completely on your own, just by redirecting your attention, or taking time for self-reflection, or meditation. How can these practices work, you may wonder, if love is only experienced in connection with others? Why not dive right into interventions that alter how you interact with others, such as that you smile, nod, or lean in toward them more often, or mirror their gestures? Two reasons, actually. The first concerns sincerity. I suspect you’ve encountered people who, in the course of doing their jobs, have been told to “smile at the customers” or “act cheerfully.” While they (and their superiors) may have the best intentions, what emerges on these workers’ faces and in their gestures from following these decrees often feels distinctly forced, or “put on.” Your gut tells you that they don’t really mean it, that they don’t truly care about you, personally. It’s easy to become cynical about such gestures. You wonder, what are they trying to sell me? Your suspicion puts you on guard, bracing to avoid any unwanted influence. Studies have indeed documented clear differences between genuinely heartfelt smiles and the so-called social or unfelt smiles that these workers put on like a uniform. Beyond the fact that genuine smiles uniquely activate the cheek-raising muscles that create (or deepen) crow’s feet at the corners of people’s eyes, genuine smiles also differ in timing from forced or insincere smiles. Sincere smiles tend to arise and then fade away in the span of a few seconds. Insincere smiles, by contrast, are either flashed more quickly, in less than a second, or worn for longer durations, like makeup or a mask. Basically, you, like most people, are not altogether good at putting on a smile in the absence of genuine positive feeling. You are, however, exceptionally good at detecting insincere smiles in others, especially (as discussed in chapter 2) when making eye contact. So one reason to begin with love-seeding activities on your own, rather than in social interactions proper, is to avoid the predictable boomerang effect of trying too hard to adjust your nonverbal actions. To be successful, you’ll need to cultivate genuinely positive social sentiments from the inside out.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Neural coupling like this is a biological manifestation of oneness. Laboratory studies have already shown that when positive emotions course through you, your awareness expands from your habitual focus on “me” to a more generous focus on “we.” When you’re feeling bad—afraid, anxious, or angry—even your best friend can seem pretty remote or separate from you. The same goes for when you’re feeling nothing in particular. Not so, when you’re feeling good. Under the influence of positive emotions, your sense of self actually expands to include others to greater degrees. Your best friend, in these lighthearted moments, simply seems like a bigger part of you. Hasson’s work suggests that when you share your positive emotions with others, when you experience positivity resonance together with this sense of expansion, it’s also deeply physical, evident in your brain. The emotional understanding of true empathy recruits coinciding brain activity in both you and the person of your focus. Another telling brain imaging study, this one conducted by scientists in Taipei, Taiwan, illustrates self-other overlap at the neuronal level. Imagine for a moment being a participant in this study. While you are in the fMRI brain scanner, the researchers show you a number of short, animated scenes and ask you to picture yourself in these scenes. Some of these scenes depict painful events, like dropping something heavy on your toe or getting your fingers pinched in a closing door. What the brain images show is that, compared to imagining neutral, nonpainful situations, imagining yourself in these painful situations lights up the well-known network of brain areas associated with pain processing, including the insula, that area linked with conscious feeling states. When you are later asked to imagine these same painful events happening to a loved one—your spouse, your best friend, or your child, for instance—these same brain areas light up. By and large, then, your loved one’s pain is your pain. By contrast, when you imagine these painful events happening to complete strangers, a different pattern of activation emerges altogether, one that shows little activation in the insula and more activation in areas linked with distinguishing and distancing yourself from others, and actively inhibiting or regulating emotions, as if to prevent their pain from becoming your pain. At the level of brain activity during imagined pain, you and your beloved are virtually indistinguishable. Whereas the Taipei research team defined love to be a lasting loving relationship (what, for clarity’s sake, I call a bond), the work from Hasson’s team at Princeton tells me that neural synchrony and overlap can also unfold between you and a complete stranger—if you let it. Positivity resonance between brains, as it turns out, requires only connection, not the intimacy or shared history that comes with a special bond.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  There would be such a fuss and stir they could not possibly, I thought, miss me - but I knew that Kitty would if I left her for them; and I knew, besides, that I should miss her horribly and only make the occasion miserable for everybody else. So she and I spent it together - with Walter, as ever, in attendance - at Mrs Dendy’s table, eating goose, and drinking toast after toast to the coming year with champagne and pale ale. Of course, there were gifts: presents from home, which Mother forwarded with a stiff little note that I refused to let shame me; presents from Walter (a brooch for Kitty, a hat-pin for me). I sent parcels to Whitstable, and gave gifts at Ma Dendy’s; and for Kitty I bought the loveliest thing that I could find: a pearl - a single flawless pearl that was mounted on silver and hung from a chain. It cost ten times as much as I had ever spent on any gift before, and I trembled when I handled it. Mrs Dendy, when I showed it to her, gave a frown. ‘Pearls for tears,’ she said, and shook her head: she was very superstitious. Kitty, however, thought it beautiful, and had me fasten it about her neck at once, and seized a mirror to watch it swinging there, an inch beneath the hollow of her lovely throat. ‘I’ll never take it off,’ she said; and she never did, but wore it ever after - even on the stage, beneath her neck-ties and cravats. She, of course, bought me a gift. It came in a box with a bow, and wrapped in tissue, and turned out to be a dress: the most handsome dress I had ever possessed, a long, slim evening dress of deepest blue, with a cream satin sash about the waist, and heavy lace at the bosom and hem; a dress, I knew, that was far too fine for me. When I drew it from its wrappings and held it up against me before the glass, I shook my head, quite stricken. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I said to Kitty, ‘but how can I keep it? It’s far too smart. You must take it back, Kitty. It’s too expensive.’ But Kitty, who had watched me handle it with dark and shining eyes, only laughed to see me so uneasy. ‘Rubbish!’ she said. ‘It’s about time you started wearing some decent frocks, instead of those awful old schoolgirlish things you brought with you from home. I have a decent wardrobe - and so should you. Goodness knows we can afford it.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  Father handed out the oysters, and Mother offered beer or lemonade. Kitty picked up a shell with one hand and her oyster-knife with the other, and brought them together rather ineffectually. Father saw, and gave a shout. ‘Ho, there, Miss Butler, where are our manners! Davy, you take that knife and show the lady how - else she might just job the blade into her hand, and give herself a nasty cut.’ ‘I can do it,’ I said quickly; and I took the oyster from her, and the knife, before my brother could get his fingers on them. ‘You do it like this,’ I said to her. ‘You must hold the oyster in your palm so that the flat shell is uppermost - like this.’ I held the shell to show her, and she gazed at it rather gravely. ‘Then you must take your blade and put it - not between the halves, but in the hinge, here. And then you must grasp it, and prise.’ I gave the knife a gentle twist, and the shell eased open. ‘You must hold it steady,’ I went on, ‘because the shell is full of liquor, and you mustn’t spill a drop of it, for that’s the tastiest part.’ The little fish sat in my palm in its bath of oyster-juice, naked and slippery. ‘This here,’ I said, pointing with my knife, ‘is called the beard; you must trim that away.’ I gave the blade a flick, and the beard was severed. ‘Then you must just cut your oyster free ... And now you may eat it.’ I slipped the shell carefully into her hand, and felt her fingers warm and soft against my own as she cupped them to receive it. Our heads were very near. She raised the oyster to her lips and held it for a second before her mouth, her eyes on mine, unblinking. I had not been aware of it, but I had spoken softly, and the others had quietened to listen. Now the table was hushed and still. When I took my eyes from Kitty’s I saw a ring of faces turned my way, and blushed. At last, someone spoke. It was Father, and his voice was very loud. ‘No bolting him down whole now, Miss Butler,’ he said, ‘like the gormays do. We won’t have that at this table. You go on and give him a real good chew.’ He said it kindly, and Kitty laughed. She peered into the shell in her hand. ‘And is it really alive?’ she said. ‘Alive alive-oh,’ said Davy. ‘If you listen very hard, you will hear him shrieking as he goes down.’ There were protests at that from Rhoda and Alice. ‘You will make the poor girl sick,’ said Mother. ‘Don’t you mind him, Miss Butler. You just eat your fish, and enjoy it.’

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Add your own compassionate wishes to the mix, and breathe out a small infusion of comfort. Breathe in threats, softening them by adding your love into the mix, and breathe out safety. Breathe in despair; breathe out peace. Breathe in feelings of being overcome, and breathe out strength. Breathe in the suffering person’s difficulties, and breathe out ease. As you end this practice session, know that you can access this growing supply of compassion anytime you wish. Try This Micro-moment Practice: Create Compassion in Daily Life You can also practice compassion informally. Opportunities to do so are plentiful in the full buzz of daily life, as you walk from your car to your office, as you stand in the checkout line, or sit in a meeting. Why not replace random mind-wandering with simple mental activities that build your capacity to connect with others compassionately? The only investment you make is in the currency of emotional energy, not time or money. All it takes is a willingness to retrain your heart and mind to see others differently. Here’s how to dive in: In these “found” moments, take in the faces and body postures of others. These need not be people with whom you are currently interacting. Mere passersby are great targets for informal practice. Think of it as harmless people-watching, albeit with respectful distance and loving intent. Consider your commute. On the train, in the car, or in the parking lot, instead of staying wrapped up in your own thoughts, take time to notice the people around you. Imagine the ways—small or large—that they might be suffering right now. It can be helpful to remember that no situation is 100 percent good (or bad). Each moment, for each person walking this earth, contains some unique blend of good and bad fortune. As Armistead Maupin writes, describing Mona’s Law in the book series Tales of the City: You can have a great job, a great apartment, and a great relationship, but never all three at the same time. With this awareness in mind, take a close look at those others with whom you cross paths. Look for nonverbal signs, however small, of their suffering—a grimace, a furrowed brow, a heavy sigh, or slumped posture—any clue that this other person is carrying some burden on his or her shoulders or in his or her heart. Witness this suffering with your whole body, not just with your eyes and your mind. See if you can feel in your own body and your own heart the heavy load that this person endures. All people suffer. At some level, whatever flavor of difficulty another faces will feel somewhat familiar to you. Lightly let your heart and mind reflect on that source of shared pain for a moment.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  You’ll soon find that when you connect with those who suffer, when you sit beside them with kindness, clear eyes, and acceptance, you’ll quite naturally be drawn to care, help, or give. The warm and tender feelings in your heart inspire you to do whatever you can to relieve the other person’s suffering. Put another way, compassion doesn’t just sit there. It motivates action. Those actions may be seemingly small—like listening attentively or taking over a chore—or more heroic—like hosting a fund-raiser or taking on a position of leadership to advocate on behalf of those less fortunate. Let your new appreciation for the other’s predicament guide you in selecting the wisest course of action, knowing that—as with alternative medicine—the smallest interventions sometimes have the biggest effects. Compassion, then, meets the negativity of suffering with the positivity of love, acceptance, and concern. When love moves toward suffering in this way, it raises the ratios of positivity to negativity for all involved. These newly raised positivity ratios spur on healing, growth, and resilience when and where it’s needed most. Laura’s Story My friend Laura works as a doula. Pregnant women hire her to support them during labor and childbirth, and into their postpartum stages. While other professionals who attend a birth focus primarily on a safe childbirth, a doula’s aim is to “mother the mother,” continuously offering her timely information, emotional support, and physical assistance throughout that miraculous and often tumultuous journey, helping her to feel safer, and more comfortable and confident. Studies show that the continuous support that a doula provides can improve health outcomes for both the mother and the baby. More than a decade ago, Laura’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. At that time, she had declined the recommended courses of radiation and chemotherapy, even though she was informed that without them she might live only months. Because Laura’s mom had defied medical expectations by living well year after year, Laura “never knew what to expect” and “learned to adopt an ‘in the moment’ mind-set.” She knew that especially with respect to her mother’s life expectancy, “it did little good to plan.” So when, about a dozen years after the mastectomy, she learned that her mother’s cancer had spread to her bones and was terminal, Laura continued to address her mother’s dying one moment at a time. As her mom’s physical limitations increased, Laura made a room for her in her own small apartment so that she could better care for her. Eventually, with help from her sister, hospice workers, and countless others, Laura was piecing together round-the-clock care for her dying mom. Laura had attended countless home births over the years. This was her first home death. She’d made a career out of caring for mothers while they faced difficult passages, and here she was doing the same for her very own mom, albeit for a very different kind of passage.

• From Delta of Venus (1977)

  “Every day they stole five or ten minutes from the closing-hour rush. Pretending to put things in order, to dust, to rectify errors on the price tags, they planned the little scene. He added the most effective touch of all—a screen. Then lace-edged sheets from another department. Then he made up the bed and turned down the coverlet. After kissing her hands, they conversed. He called her Nana. As she did not know the book, he gave it to her. What concerned him now was the incongruous effect of her tight little black dress on the pastel bedspread. He would borrow a filmy negligée worn by a mannequin during the day and cover Madeleine with it. Even if salesmen or saleswomen passed by, they did not see the scene behind the screen. “When Madeleine had enjoyed the hand-kissing, he deposited a kiss further up along her arm, in the nook within the elbow. There the skin was sensitive, and when she folded her arm, it seemed as if the kiss were enclosed and nurtured. Madeleine let it lie there like a preserved flower and then later, when she was alone, she opened her arm and kissed the same place as if to devour it more intimately. This kiss, deposited with such delicacy, was more potent than all the gross pinchings she had received in the street as tributes to her charms or the whispered obscenities of the workmen: Viens que je te suce. “At first he sat at the foot of the bed, then he stretched himself alongside her to smoke a cigarette with all the ceremony of an opium dreamer. Alarming footsteps on the other side of the screen gave to their meeting the secrecy and dangers of a lovers’ rendezvous. Then Madeleine would say, ‘I wish we could escape from the jealous surveillance of the Count. He is getting on my nerves.’ But her admirer was too wise to say, ‘Come with me to some humble little hotel.’ He knew this could not take place in some dingy room, in a brass bed with torn blankets and gray sheets. He placed a kiss in the warmest nook of her neck, under the curling hair, then on the tip of her ear, where Madeleine could not taste it later, where she could merely touch it with her fingers. Her ear burned all day after this kiss because he had begun to bite it.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Compassion does just the opposite. It moves toward suffering, not away from it. It seeks connection, not distance. Compassion is what rouses the father who, without a moment’s thought, rushes toward his bloodied child after a playground accident, scooping her up in his arms to comfort her and attend to her wounds. It fuels the hospice volunteer, who reads poetry to the gentleman she met just last week who’s facing imminent death from colon cancer. It can move you to gently place your hand on a coworker’s arm, as you absorb her recounting of the difficulties her family is now enduring. Indeed, the latest evidence from studies of primates (both human and nonhuman) suggests that compassionate responding like this is just as natural, just as hardwired, and just as beneficial to our species as is our evolved instinct to recoil from burning sensations and other forms of physical pain. Compassion is love. It flowers when you recognize some kind of physical or emotional pain within the other person. I dare say that no human experience is purely 100 percent good. Life experiences are instead virtually always some rich amalgam of good and bad. Think of it as a vibrant tapestry, in which the gilded threads of love and good fortune are interwoven among the darker threads of pain, sorrow, and loss. Equally true, no human experience is purely 100 percent bad, nor need it be. Even the heaviest of human experiences—sudden grief or joblessness, natural or human-orchestrated disasters and other brushes with mortality—can be lightened appreciably when you recollect simple truths such as “this too shall pass” or “I’m not in this alone.” Indeed, such braiding of adversity with hope and love, of destructive with more reassuring emotions, is the secret to resilience. Resilient people are the ones who bend without breaking and who eventually bounce back from even the most difficult life challenges. Instinctually, they can see some form of light in the darkness they face. In study after study, my collaborators and I find that it is precisely this infusion of positive emotions into negative emotional terrain that drives resilient people to bounce back. Perhaps you come by this sort of resilience naturally. For whatever reasons, you may have little trouble finding the value in difficult experiences, even if it’s only to discover the depths of your inner fortitude or your social support. But maybe resilience doesn’t come to you naturally. Maybe you flounder in the wake of upsets and struggle to regain your footing. Rest assured, people can and do become more resilient in time. All it takes is practice. With repeated practice, you can build new emotional habits that fuel a newfound and well-earned resilience. You, too, can bounce back from the many adversities you endure. And when you do, you’ll also discover a renewed capacity to offer positivity resonance to others, helping others to heal, grow, and bounce back as well. The place to start is with your own suffering.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Now, gently call forth the image of a whole swath of people. This might be all the people in your part of town or your region of the country. To do this, you might visualize the view you’d have flying low over your stretch of earth. Although you can’t see individual people, you’re aware that they are there, underneath nearly every rooftop, carrying out the activities of their day, perhaps eating, resting, working, worshipping, or simply moving from one place to another. Expand your awareness to encompass this whole community. Know that it includes people you know quite well, those you know just a bit, as well as those you don’t know at all. You can be sure that each and every one, like you, has at one time or another yearned for something more in their life, for happiness, for connection, and for an abiding sense of peace. Let your awareness of this fundamental similarity between you and all others infuse the space between your heart and each of theirs. You share the same wishes, the same earth. You breathe the same air. With your various connections to all these people in mind, silently say to yourself the following ancient phrases, or your own versions of them, offering these wishes from your heart: May you all feel safe and protected. May you all feel happy and peaceful. May you all feel healthy and strong. May you all live with ease. Offer each wish in time with the rise and fall of each of the slow and full breaths that you take. Let your goodwill toward all those in your neighborhood, town, or region infuse and soften your heart. When you are ready, gently expand the scope of your focus further still. You might choose to visualize your entire country or continent, offering your goodwill to everyone residing there, recognizing again that this includes people you know personally as well as an immense sea of those you do not know. Silently repeat the phrases with this now larger expanse of people held gently within your awareness. Another way to experiment with loving all is to divide the sum of all people into two mutually exclusive and encompassing categories. No need to bring in heavy analytic thinking here. Simply call up any division that makes sense to you, such as “all children” paired with “all adults” or “all girls and women” paired with “all boys and men” or “all those who suffer” paired with “all those currently free of suffering.” You can bring in your own touch of creativity at this stage, perhaps choosing to focus on “all those who are sleeping” paired with “all those who are awake” or “all those on whom the sun shines” paired with “all those in the darkness of night.” The key is to leave no person out, to encompass all within your consideration. Then, repeat the classic phrases for each subset of your focus, calling forth your heartfelt goodwill. May all children feel safe.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Know that this practice session is more than the mere repetition of phrases. The phrases simply open the door to a chance for you to condition your heart to be more open, more accepting, and kinder. Staying aware of your heart region allows you to witness this conditioning as it unfolds. At one moment or another, you’ll discover that your attention has strayed from the phrases. This may happen quite a lot. Don’t worry. It’s normal. Simply begin again by gently bringing your awareness back to the phrases. There’s no need to berate yourself for losing your focus. Indeed, each new moment of beginning again presents another opportunity for experimenting with the spirit of loving-kindness. Can you acknowledge your departure from your intended path while at the same time gently returning to it? What would it take to do so with a kind and loving sentiment toward yourself? Can you set aside all harshness? As you come to the end of this practice session, know that it’s completely natural for you to treat yourself kindly and wish yourself well, even though you may forget to do so quite often. Know that you can generate this tender and loving attitude toward yourself anytime you wish, just by reminding yourself that this stance exists, and how at ease it makes you feel. Sure enough, difficulties and obstacles to your happiness will still arise. Suffering happens. But now you know that you need not add to that suffering by treating yourself harshly. Indeed, you can reduce your suffering considerably at any time by reminding yourself of the ancient and ageless wishes of LKM. As your practice of LKM turns inward, toward yourself, be aware that this may also be a good time to begin (or resume) writing in a journal. Whenever possible, just after your meditation practice session, allow yourself an additional five to ten minutes to journal the stream of your consciousness. Doing so creates the time and space for you to reflect on any associations or insights that arise for you as you begin to give yourself this new kindhearted attention. What does it feel like to create these warmer, more open sentiments toward yourself? How do these sentiments make your body feel? What markers of resistance become apparent for you? What happens when you experiment with bringing your awareness—even your breath—to those areas of resistance? How do they respond? Do they tense up further? Or do they soften? Simply observe what your inner experience is like for you today. What flavors does it offer you? Are you full of feeling? Or are you numb? Brimming with energy, or worn down? Know that any of these responses are normal and just describe what you feel. See where this recognition leads you.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  Father handed out the oysters, and Mother offered beer or lemonade. Kitty picked up a shell with one hand and her oyster-knife with the other, and brought them together rather ineffectually. Father saw, and gave a shout. ‘Ho, there, Miss Butler, where are our manners! Davy, you take that knife and show the lady how - else she might just job the blade into her hand, and give herself a nasty cut.’ ‘I can do it,’ I said quickly; and I took the oyster from her, and the knife, before my brother could get his fingers on them. ‘You do it like this,’ I said to her. ‘You must hold the oyster in your palm so that the flat shell is uppermost - like this.’ I held the shell to show her, and she gazed at it rather gravely. ‘Then you must take your blade and put it - not between the halves, but in the hinge, here. And then you must grasp it, and prise.’ I gave the knife a gentle twist, and the shell eased open. ‘You must hold it steady,’ I went on, ‘because the shell is full of liquor, and you mustn’t spill a drop of it, for that’s the tastiest part.’ The little fish sat in my palm in its bath of oyster-juice, naked and slippery. ‘This here,’ I said, pointing with my knife, ‘is called the beard; you must trim that away.’ I gave the blade a flick, and the beard was severed. ‘Then you must just cut your oyster free ... And now you may eat it.’ I slipped the shell carefully into her hand, and felt her fingers warm and soft against my own as she cupped them to receive it. Our heads were very near. She raised the oyster to her lips and held it for a second before her mouth, her eyes on mine, unblinking. I had not been aware of it, but I had spoken softly, and the others had quietened to listen. Now the table was hushed and still. When I took my eyes from Kitty’s I saw a ring of faces turned my way, and blushed. At last, someone spoke. It was Father, and his voice was very loud. ‘No bolting him down whole now, Miss Butler,’ he said, ‘like the gormays do. We won’t have that at this table. You go on and give him a real good chew.’ He said it kindly, and Kitty laughed. She peered into the shell in her hand. ‘And is it really alive?’ she said. ‘Alive alive-oh,’ said Davy. ‘If you listen very hard, you will hear him shrieking as he goes down.’ There were protests at that from Rhoda and Alice. ‘You will make the poor girl sick,’ said Mother. ‘Don’t you mind him, Miss Butler. You just eat your fish, and enjoy it.’

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  You can bring in your own touch of creativity at this stage, perhaps choosing to focus on “all those who are sleeping” paired with “all those who are awake” or “all those on whom the sun shines” paired with “all those in the darkness of night.” The key is to leave no person out, to encompass all within your consideration. Then, repeat the classic phrases for each subset of your focus, calling forth your heartfelt goodwill. May all children feel safe. May all children feel happy. May all children feel healthy. May all children live with ease. As you extend these wishes, gently coax yourself to truly feel the sentiment that underlies that simple word all. Give this one word just a bit more emphasis than the other words, to nudge your heart just a bit wider with each wish you offer. May all adults feel safe. May all adults feel happy. May all adults feel healthy. May all adults live with ease. As you end this practice session and move on into your day, know that each person you encounter has already been the focus of your loving intention today. Use that awareness to forge new micro-moments of connection. Unlock Your Opportunities for Focusing on Others Outside the formal practice of LKM for all people, it can be heart-stretching simply to notice how much of your attention each day is devoted to your own concerns. There’s nothing inherently wrong with self-concerns. You are responsible, after all, for navigating yourself through your day, and at times doing so can require planning or strategic self-presentation. Problems arise only when you get swept up in swirls that appear to run on indefinitely. It can seem, sometimes, as if you’ve entered a hall of mirrors, completely alone. All you see reflected back at you is yet another view of the same self-concern, and you can no longer find the way out. Redirecting your focus toward others is the way out. Your intent, of course, matters. Focusing on others comes in many forms, not all of which are generous. It can be yet another selfish act. I spent several years early in my career cataloging the psychological damage done to girls and women who face the message that they can be reduced to how they look. The question an objectifying stance asks is, “What can you do for me?” By contrast, a genuine wish to understand and appreciate who this other person is asks, “Who are you?” and trusts that taking steps to find out will reveal inherent goodness.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  Sometimes, in the afternoons or late at night, he and I would leave Kitty and Flora fussing over the costumes and take a stroll through the dim and silent theatre, just for the pleasure of it. He had, somehow, acquired copies of all the keys to all the Britannia’s dusty, secret places - the cellars and the attics and the ancient property-rooms - and he would show me hampers full of costumes from the shows of the ‘fifties, papier-mâché crowns and sceptres, armour made of foil. Once or twice he led me up the great high ladders at the side of the stage, into the flies: here we would stand with our chins upon the rails, sharing a cigarette, gazing at the ash as it fluttered through the web of ropes and platforms to the boards, sixty feet below us. It was quite like being at Mrs Dendy’s again, with all our friends around us - except, of course, that Walter wasn’t one of them. He came only occasionally to the Brit, and hardly at all to Stamford Hill; when he did, I couldn’t bear to see him so ill at ease, and so found business of my own to keep me occupied elsewhere, and left Kitty to deal with him. She, I noticed, was as awkward and self-conscious as he when he came calling, and seemed to prefer his letters to his person - for he sent his news to her by post, these days, so drastically had our old friendship dwindled. But she said she did not mind, and I understood she didn’t wish to talk of something that was painful to her. I knew it must be very hard for her, to think that Walter had guessed her secret, and hated it. Chapter 11 T he lady’s name, I learned in time, was Diana: Diana Lethaby. She was a widow, and childless, and rich, and venturesome, and thus - though on a considerably grander scale - as accomplished in the habits of self-pleasure as myself, and quite as hard of heart. In that summer of 1892 she would have been eight-and-thirty - younger, that is, than I am now, though she seemed terribly old to me then, at twenty-two. Her marriage had been, I think, a loveless one, for she wore neither wedding-ring nor mourning-ring, nor was there any picture of Mr Lethaby in any room in that large, handsome house. I never asked after him, and she never questioned me about my past. She had created me anew: the old dark days before were nothing to her. And they must become nothing to me, of course, now that we had settled our bargain. On that first, fierce morning of my time in her house, she had me kiss her again, then bathe, then re-don my old guardsman’s uniform; and as I dressed, she stood a little to one side and studied me.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  Alongside this awareness of suffering’s inevitability and the fundamental sameness of all people, you can choose to wish yourself well. You deserve this kindness as much as anyone. Now, put your intention for this particular practice session, whatever it is, into words. This will shine a light on the path you choose and help you get back on it when your mind inevitably strays. Begin by lightly calling to mind your own good qualities. If it helps, briefly visualize an event that exemplifies one of those good qualities. No need to launch an exhaustive hunt for the “best” good quality or the “best” exemplifying event. Just lightly accept whatever good quality or instance of it that comes to mind. No need to judge or rate it. Simply let it remind you of what’s good in you, what touches your heart about yourself. Then, gently offer the classic wishes of loving-kindness to yourself, choosing phrasings of these classic sentiments that best speak to your heart. May I feel safe and protected. May I feel happy and peaceful. May I feel healthy and strong. May I live with ease. See yourself as being a dear friend to yourself. It may help to first conjure up the feelings of warmth and tenderness you might feel toward a small child, or a kitten, as innocent as these small creatures can be. Experience how your face softens or your heart expands in their presence. Now imagine directing these same feelings of warmth and tenderness toward yourself. May I feel safe. May I feel happy. May I feel healthy. May I live with ease. Between each phrase, pause for just a moment and drop your awareness down to your body, to your heart in particular. Note and accept whatever sensations arise there. Know that this practice session is more than the mere repetition of phrases. The phrases simply open the door to a chance for you to condition your heart to be more open, more accepting, and kinder. Staying aware of your heart region allows you to witness this conditioning as it unfolds. At one moment or another, you’ll discover that your attention has strayed from the phrases. This may happen quite a lot. Don’t worry. It’s normal. Simply begin again by gently bringing your awareness back to the phrases. There’s no need to berate yourself for losing your focus. Indeed, each new moment of beginning again presents another opportunity for experimenting with the spirit of loving-kindness. Can you acknowledge your departure from your intended path while at the same time gently returning to it? What would it take to do so with a kind and loving sentiment toward yourself? Can you set aside all harshness?

• From Birthday Girl (2018)

  ―Oh, no, está bien ―le digo―. No quiero molestarlo. Solo lo dejaré contigo. ―Si dejas eso conmigo, me lo comeré. O lo perderé. ―Se ríe y me guía hacia unas escaleras. Mis hombros se desploman. Increíble. Nos dirigimos al tercer piso, tomando lo que supongo serán las escaleras de emergencia una vez que los elevadores estén instalados, y llegamos a un piso con solo marcos en las paredes, mostrando cómo estarán divididas las oficinas y áreas de trabajo, una vez que esté terminado. Pike es el único en el piso, muy lejos en el lado izquierdo y sobre un portapapeles. Nos escucha acercarnos y alza la mirada de sus papeles, girando su cabeza. Sus ojos se estrechan en mí, y parpadeo con fuerza y largo, sintiéndome estúpida. Está usando una camiseta azul marino, y el color en él calienta mis mejillas. Me encanta cómo luce contra sus brazos bronceados y las curvas de sus bíceps. ―¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? ―pregunta. Sin embargo, no suena molesto a como temía. Solo desconcertado. Levanto la bolsa. ―Dejaste tu almuerzo sobre la mesa. Su expresión se relaja, y la tensión en su cuerpo se alivia. ―Oh, gracias. ―Se acerca, y se lo entrego―. Aunque, no pasa nada ―me dice―. Pude haber comido algo del camión de comida. No tenías que molestarte. ¿Camión de comida? ―Bueno, no podía dejar que comieras basura de un camión de comida ―digo. Y para mi alivio, sonríe un poco. ―Es básicamente lo mismo que hay aquí ―recalca, poniendo la lonchera sobre una mesa de trabajo. Pero estoy muy por delante de él. ―Bueno, también metí un burrito de pavo, queso y pepino, en caso que quisieras algo diferente. Su rostro cae. ―No te preocupes ―bromeo―. Tu almuerzo sigue ahí. Solo hice demasiado y necesitaba ayuda para terminar los burritos. El leve miedo en sus ojos se disipa, y respira. ―¿No serás feliz hasta que coma humus, cierto? Intento no reír. ―Te construiré lentamente. Pone los ojos en blanco, y finalmente respiro profundo. Supongo que terminamos la discusión. Me quedo ahí, sintiendo sus ojos sobre mí, y los sonidos de martillos golpeando y la brisa soplando a través de la estructura se desvanecen lentamente. Entonces me doy cuenta que Dutch todavía está en la habitación. Ambos lo miramos, y su mirada se mueve entre nosotros. ―Iré… ―traga y se aclara la garganta―, a hacer algo ―dice y se va, dejándonos solos. Miro de nuevo a Pike, y supongo que también debería irme y dejarlo, pero en cambio, deslizo mis manos en mis bolsillos y miro alrededor. ―El aserrín huele bien ―le digo. Una sonrisa cruza sus ojos, y asiente, mirando alrededor. ―Sí. Es como estar en casa para mí. Cuando nuestras miradas se encuentran otra vez, el calor se desliza en mi vientre, y olvido respirar por un momento. Aparto la mirada rápidamente. —Me disculpo por haberte hablado así ayer ―dice―. No hiciste nada malo.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  When she worked so hard and grew so weary, it made me pace about the room and wring my hands, and want to shake her. It was not her job at the girls’ home that so exhausted her, it was the endless guild and union work - the piles of lists and ledgers she would place upon the supper-table, when the supper-things had been cleared off it, and squint at, all night long, until her eyes were red, and creased as currants. Sometimes, since I had nothing better to do, I would take a chair and sit beside her, and make her share the chores with me: she gave me envelopes to address, or other little harmless tasks I could not muddle. When, in spring, the Guild set up a local seamstresses’ union, and Florence began visiting the home-workers of Bethnal Green - all the poor women who worked long hours, alone, in squalid rooms, for wretched pay - I went with her. The scenes we saw were very miserable, and the women were pleased to be visited, and the Guild was grateful; but it was for Florence’s sake I really went. I couldn’t bear for her to do the dreary task, and walk the East End streets, at night, alone. And then - as I have said, a housekeeper will look for any little thing to liven her day - I began to labour for her, in the kitchen. She was thin, and the thinness looked wrong on her: the sight of the shadows at her cheeks made me feel sad. So, while the Women’s Cooperative Guild made it their cause to unionise the home-workers of East London, I made it mine to fatten up Florence, with breakfasts and lunches, with sandwich teas, with dinners and suppers and biscuits and milk. I had not much success with this, to start with - for, though I took to haunting the meat stalls of the Whitechapel Market, buying faggots and sausages, rabbits and tripe, and bagfuls of those scraps of flesh we had used to call, in Whitstable, ‘bits and ears’, I was really rather an indifferent cook, and was as liable to burn the meat, or leave it bloody, as make it savoury; Florence and Ralph did not notice, I think, because they were used to nothing better. But then, one day at the end of August, I saw that the oyster season had started up, and I bought a barrel of natives and an oyster knife; and as I put the blade to the hinge, it was as if I turned a key which unlocked all my mother’s oyster-parlour recipes, and sent them flooding to my finger-ends. I dished up an oyster-pie - and Florence put aside the paper she was writing on, to eat it, then picked at the crust that was left in the bowl, with her fork.

• From Love 2.0: Finding Happiness and Health in Moments of Connection (2013)

  You simply offer up a single gilded strand, a single warm gesture. Indeed, an alchemist’s bravado would surely backfire, leaving your companion wounded by the added harm that comes from having the grave realities of his or her current circumstances ignored. Difficult experiences, most often, can’t simply be erased. They can only be met with the respect of openness and the warmth of goodwill. As you practice compassion, maintain an awareness of your own current resources. Take in and take on only as much of another’s pain as you can responsibly hold. Becoming more open to pain is a process, often a difficult one. So don’t force it. Take baby steps. Know that even a small increase in your openness to another’s pain changes both your own heart and the situation the other faces for the better. Opening too far to pain, or too fast, can push you beyond that sweet spot of positivity resonance that you seek. When that happens, you altogether miss your intended aim of simply being with the other through this difficult passage. You instead collapse under the weight of your own pain, losing your ability to offer support to others. Although “Be open” can be a great motto in many circumstances, like any piece of good advice, it can also be taken too far. You’ll soon find that when you connect with those who suffer, when you sit beside them with kindness, clear eyes, and acceptance, you’ll quite naturally be drawn to care, help, or give. The warm and tender feelings in your heart inspire you to do whatever you can to relieve the other person’s suffering. Put another way, compassion doesn’t just sit there. It motivates action. Those actions may be seemingly small—like listening attentively or taking over a chore—or more heroic—like hosting a fund-raiser or taking on a position of leadership to advocate on behalf of those less fortunate. Let your new appreciation for the other’s predicament guide you in selecting the wisest course of action, knowing that—as with alternative medicine—the smallest interventions sometimes have the biggest effects. Compassion, then, meets the negativity of suffering with the positivity of love, acceptance, and concern. When love moves toward suffering in this way, it raises the ratios of positivity to negativity for all involved. These newly raised positivity ratios spur on healing, growth, and resilience when and where it’s needed most. Laura’s Story My friend Laura works as a doula.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Augustine infers from the interest which the rich man in hell still had in the fate of his five surviving brothers (Luke xvi. 27), that the pious dead in heaven must have even far more interest in the kindred and friends whom they have left behind.840 He also calls the saints our intercessors, yet under Christ, the proper and highest Intercessor, as Peter and the other apostles are shepherds under the great chief Shepherd.841 In a memorial discourse on Stephen, he imagines that martyr, and St. Paul who stoned him, to be present, and begs them for their intercessions with the Lord with whom they reign.842 He attributes miraculous effects, even the raising of the dead, to the intercessions of Stephen.843 But, on the other hand, he declares, as we have already observed, his inability to solve the difficult question of the way in which the dead can be made acquainted with our wishes and prayers. At all events, in Augustine’s practical religion the worship of the saints occupies a subordinate place. In his "Confessions" and "Soliloquies" he always addresses himself directly to God, not to Mary nor to martyrs. The Spanish poet Prudentius flees with prayers and confessions of sin to St. Laurentius, and considers himself unworthy to be heard by Christ Himself.844 The poems of Paulinus of Nola are full of direct prayers for the intercessions of the saints, especially of St. Felix, in whose honor he erected a basilica, and annually composed an ode, and whom he calls his patron, his father, his lord. He relates that the people came in great crowds around the wonder-working relics of this saint on his memorial day, and could not look on them enough. Leo the Great, in his sermons, lays great stress on the powerful intercession of the apostles Peter and Paul, and of the Roman martyr Laurentius.845 Pope Gregory the Great, at the close of our period, went much farther. According to this we cannot wonder that the Virgin Mary and the saints are interwoven also in the prayers of the liturgies,846 and that their merits and intercession stand by the side of the merits of Christ as a ground of the acceptance of our prayers. § 85. Festivals of the Saints. The system of saint-worship, like that of the worship of Mary, became embodied in a series of religious festivals, of which many had only a local character, some a provincial, some a universal. To each saint a day of the year, the day of his death, or his heavenly birthday, was dedicated, and it was celebrated with a memorial oration and exercises of divine worship, but in many cases desecrated by unrestrained amusements of the people, like the feasts of the heathen gods and heroes. The most important saints’ days which come down from the early church, and bear a universal character, are the following:

• From Birthday Girl (2018)

  Inclina su cabeza tratando de esconder las lágrimas que no puede detener, subo un escalón hacia ella y dudo un momento antes de poner mi mano a un lado de su rostro. Mis dedos se envuelven alrededor de su nuca, y no me aleja. —Estoy aquí, ¿está bien? —susurro—. Nada va a cambiar. Todavía me encanta el olor de tus velas y el sonido de tu música en la casa. —Me detengo y luego añado—: Aunque no soy un gran fan de los Wraps de pepino que metiste a escondidas en mi almuerzo ayer. Rompe en una silenciosa carcajada mientras sus hombros se sacuden. Acaricio su mejilla con mi pulgar. —No voy a ir a ningún lado. Y la atraigo hacia mí, abrazándola contra mi pecho y deseando nada más que solo protegerla y darle todas las malditas cosas que no tiene. Envuelvo mi brazo libre a su alrededor, y después de un momento cede y sus brazos me envuelven, fundiéndose conmigo. Nos abrazamos tanto que no sé si la estoy sosteniendo o ella me está reteniendo, pero por un momento, tengo miedo de caerme si la dejo ir. —Tráelos aquí —le digo—. Te quitará la presión de tener que entretenerlos. Prepararé los flotadores y pediré pizza. Se aleja, sollozando, pero no hay más lágrimas brotando de sus ojos y esboza una media sonrisa. —A los niños les gusta solo de queso —dice, con un aire de paz en su expresión. —Sí, lo recuerdo. —Creo que a Cole todavía le gusta solo de queso, en realidad. Deja caer su bolso por la puerta donde estaba antes y me mira antes de irse, una comprensión estableciéndose entre nosotros. No estoy aquí para lastimarla. Siempre que me mantenga alejado de ella mejor que la noche pasada, entonces no lo haré. —¡No puedo hacerlo! —grita Jensen, con el agua saliendo de sus labios. El niño de siete años pisotea el agua con unas enormes gafas protectoras en su rostro. Debajo de él, tres anillos de buceo están ubicados en el fondo de la piscina, y después que conseguí que fuera lo suficientemente valiente como para agarrarme del cuello mientras me zambullía para recuperarlos, pensé que era hora de que él lo intentara. Cramer es un idiota, pero sus hijos no. —Intenta mover los pies primero —le digo—. Aquí, hunde tu rostro y mírame. La piscina alcanza un metro ochenta, pero nado de todos modos, poniéndome por encima de los anillos. Jordan está en la parte menos profunda con Ava, que tiene solo dos años, y le enseña cómo hacer burbujas con el agua. Me sentí aliviado de verla salir con un bikini más conservador que ese pequeño maldito bikini, pero desafortunadamente no me está resultando más fácil de manejar. —¿Listo? —digo, alejando mi mirada de su cabello empapado en su espalda y miro a Jensen.

• From Birthday Girl (2018)

  por encima de mi hombro para verla bajarse silenciosamente del taburete y recoger su computadora y cuaderno. —No tienes que irte —le digo—. Ya me voy de todos los modos. Muestra una pequeña y tensa sonrisa, pero no me mira mientras coloca sus cosas a su lado y toma su café de nuevo. —¿Llevas despierta mucho tiempo? —pregunto —Tengo el sueño ligero. —Finalmente levanta los ojos y se ríe para sí misma— . Las tormentas eléctricas son difíciles para mí. Asiento, entendiendo. El calor es igual para mí. El aire acondicionado debe ajustarse a dieciocho grados todas las noches para poder dormir. Está en la punta de mi lengua preguntarle si la temperatura la molestó anoche, pero realmente no tiene sentido. Necesito dormir, no voy a cambiarlo, y sabe dónde están las mantas extra si necesita algo. Nos quedamos en silencio por un momento, y luego finalmente parpadea y hace un gesto a la cocina detrás de mí. —Hay, mmm... magdalenas de arándanos si tienes hambre —indica—. Son precocinadas, pero son bastante buenas. Giro la cabeza y, por supuesto, un molde de magdalenas que no es mío está en la parte superior de la cocina, cada molde rebosa con una magdalena dorada. Extiendo la mano y agarro una, ocultando mi sonrisa. Entonces, no son velas perfumadas que despiertan falsas esperanzas, después de todo. Creo que ella me gusta. Se da vuelta y comienza a salir de la cocina, pero la llamo. —¿Crees que puedas levantar a Cole muy rápido, por favor? La lluvia realmente está en mi horario de trabajo, y aún estamos sentando los cimientos, así que hoy necesito ayuda con los sacos de arena. Me mira por encima del hombro, curiosa. —¿Cimientos? —Del sitio que me contrataron para construir —aclaro—. Hoy no puedo trabajar con el clima, pero tenemos que asegurarnos que el sótano no se inunde. Me vendría bien la ayuda de Cole. Cae en cuenta y la confusión en su rostro desaparece. —Cierto. Claro. —Asiente y sale rápidamente de la habitación, sus pasos resuenan en las escaleras con determinación.