In mindfulness meditation classes I’ve noticed that there are two distinct groups of people. There are those that attend because they are interested in self-improvement and those that are there for self-care. Spoiler alert: those in the self-improvement camp tend to have a higher drop-out rate. Though self-improvement and self-care share some similar traits, making a distinction between the two can make a big difference when it comes to maintaining your mindfulness practice.
Self-improvement and self-care both assume that we have the power to create more health and happiness in our lives, but when we slow down to examine the motivation behind each, we find that they are distinct experiences. For example, my self-improvement voice says things like, “If you don’t meditate today, you’re a failure,” or “You should be better at meditation by now.” The emotional tone of these moments is one of striving. The underlying belief is that there is something wrong with me compared to others. The sneaky hope is that I won’t just be ‘good at mindfulness’, but that I will be outstanding, better than all the rest.
On the other hand, my self-care voice offers up things like, “My back is hurting and I’d like to do some gentle stretching,” or “I’m feeling anxious and I’d like to take some deep breaths.” The emotional tone is caring and the belief is that I am worthy of having my needs met. The hope is that I will feel physically and emotionally well.
Of course we all want to be the best version of ourselves and the world of advertising knows this. There is a lot of money to be made from having us believe that we are deeply flawed. We are bombarded by messages telling us that happiness is always just out of reach, to be experienced after that next meditation retreat, fitness class or superfood feast.
I’d like to offer another perspective, one that has grown quite naturally out of siting and being with myself exactly as I am over the years. The best version of ourselves is the one we are experiencing right now. When we let go of our past and future imaginings, we realize that this present moment self is the only self that exists. It is the winner by default every time. This doesn’t mean that we never change, it just means we know that if nothing about us changes, we’re ok. As John Kabat-Zinn, the father of secular mindfulness said, “As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you, no matter what is wrong.”
Acknowledging our completeness in each moment also means we accept our needs rather than perceiving them as flaws that make us less than whole. Needs are a part of what make us human. They are a call to be our most fulfilled selves according to our own selves.
The more I practice mindfulness, the more I realize that meaningful change doesn’t come from trying to live by society’s values, but from cultivating an attitude of respect for the unique demands of my body, mind and heart. When we let go of trying to change ourselves and start taking care of ourselves, we find there is a place where we can just rest, a place where we are always enough. And there is no improving upon that.