Nothing Changes Until You Do: A Guide to Self-Compassion and Getting Out of Your Own Way

CHAPTER 1

Focus on What Truly Matters

My mom, Lois Dempsey Robbins, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer in early March of 2011. The disease spread very quickly and on June 13 of that same year, she passed away. I was with her through her dying process, and it was both horrible and beautiful at the same time.

It was difficult for me to see my mom’s physical deterioration and how much pain she was in. I also struggled with the realization that she was going to die and that at 37 years old I would be without either of my parents (my dad died in 2001), and my girls would grow up without their grandma, who absolutely adored them.

However, there were some amazing moments as well. About a week before she died, my mom and I were sitting on her bed talking. She was already starting to fade in and out, but in a clear and lucid moment, she looked at me and said in a hushed tone, I’m sorry I didn’t teach you more, Mike. I was a bit surprised to hear her say this; my mom wasn’t big on apologies or vulnerability, although in that final month or so she really softened and opened up in beautiful ways. That’s okay, Mom, I replied. You taught me more than enough. After a pause I added, Sorry I was such a pain in the ass sometimes. She looked at me and said, through a laugh, It’s okay; that’s what you were supposed to do. We both laughed and cried a little, but mostly laughed. Our relationship had its challenges over the years, but in that moment, we connected in a very real way.

This type of closeness, and the family connection, deep conversations, healing, insights, love, forgiveness, and support were some of the most wonderful things I experienced in the days and weeks before and after her death.

My mom’s diagnosis, illness, and passing caused me to look more deeply at the things and people in my life that matter most—as is often the case when we go through a traumatic event. Through this challenge, I was given perspective and awareness.

What I noticed is that, sadly, I don’t focus on what and who truly matter to me as much as I’d like. I often get distracted by fears, ego-obsessions, drama (in my own life and in the world), ambitions, and all sorts of survival instincts and emotional reactions. While I understand that this is all part of being human, I also recognize that when I get distracted like this, I’m not able to fully engage in the most important parts of my life.

Why do we get so distracted? Why does it sometimes take illness, crisis, injury, tragedy, or even death to wake us up and get our attention?

I think we clutter up our lives with too much stuff. We’re so busy, overcommitted, and information-obsessed. Our never-ending to-do lists are long and we run around trying to keep up or be important, and in the process stress ourselves out. Even though many of us, myself included, often complain that we can’t do anything about this—based on the nature of life today, technology, or our responsibilities, families, and jobs—most of us have more of a say over our schedules than we admit. We can choose how much we engage in electronic communication or the amount of stuff we cram into our daily lives. Much of this distracts us from what’s most important and keeps us from feeling our true emotions, which is one of the reasons we keep ourselves so busy and distracted in the first place.

It can be a little scary to focus on what truly matters. Some of the most important people, activities, and aspects of our lives may seem unimportant to those around us, and may or may not have anything to do with our careers or taking care of our families. Some of these may not even be things that other people like, understand, or agree with. Even if they are, sadly, it’s often easier to just watch TV, check our e-mail, clean our house, plan our day, surf the Internet, and merely react to what’s going on around us than to actively engage in the things we value most.

We also may not actually know what’s most important to us, or we at least have some internal struggle about what should be. With so many conflicting beliefs, ideas, expectations, and agendas within and around us, it’s not always easy to know with certainty what matters most to us. And, even if we do, it can take a good deal of strength to live in alignment with this on a regular basis. Whether it’s our lack of clarity or our fear of letting other people down (or maybe a bit of both), focusing on what truly matters to us can be more tricky than it seems on the surface.

While these and other reasons make sense, not focusing on what matters most to us has a real and often negative impact on our lives, our work, and everyone around us. We end up living in a way that is out of synch with who we really are, which causes stress, dissatisfaction, and missed opportunities and experiences.

What if we did focus on what truly mattered all the time—not simply because we experience a wake-up call, crisis, or major life change, but because we choose to in a proactive way? What would your life look like if you let go of some of your biggest distractions, the often meaningless worries and stresses that take your attention, and actually put more focus on the people and things that are most important to you?

One of the most profound things my mom said before she died was, I want people to know that they don’t have to suffer through this. As the end was getting closer, my mom’s desire to share her wisdom increased, and it was beautiful. Because I was more focused on what mattered and less distracted by my own busyness, worries, to-do list, and even my judgments, I was actually able to pay more attention to her and really listen to the wisdom she had to share, which was such a gift.

Here are some of the key lessons I learned from my mom as she began to surrender and open up in the final days of her life. These are simple (although not easy) reminders for each of us:

Express Yourself—Say what you have to say; don’t hold things back. As my mom got closer to death, she began to express herself with a deeper level of authenticity and transparency. We had conversations about things we’d never talked about before and she opened up in ways that were both liberating and inspiring. Too often in life, we hold back because we’re afraid of rejection, judgment, and alienation. Expressing ourselves is about letting go of our limiting filters and living life out loud.

Forgive—My mom and I come from a long line of grudge holders. Like me, she could hold a grudge with the best of ’em. I watched as she began to consciously and unconsciously let go of her grudges and resentments, both big and small. It was as if she was saying, Who cares? When you only have a few months (or weeks) to live, the idea that life’s too short becomes more than a bumper sticker; it’s a reality. And, with this reality, the natural thing for us to do is to forgive those around us—and ourselves.

Live with Passion—Going for it, being bold, and living our lives with a genuine sense of passion is so important. However, it’s easy to get caught up in our concerns or to worry what other people will think about us. My mom, who was a pretty passionate woman throughout her life, began to live with an even deeper level of passion, although her body was deteriorating. In her final days and weeks, she engaged everyone in conversation, talked about what she loved, shared grandiose ideas, and let go of many of her concerns about the opinions of others. It was amazing—such a great model and reminder of the importance of passion.

Share Your Appreciation—At one point, my mom said, It’s so important to appreciate people … I don’t know why I haven’t done more of that in my life. Even in the midst of all she was going through, she went out of her way to let people know what she appreciated about them—and people shared their appreciation with her as well. My friend Janae set up a joy line for people to call and leave voice messages for my mom in her final days. We got close to 50 of the most beautiful messages, all expressing love and appreciation for my mom—most of which we were able to play for her before she passed away. Appreciation is the greatest gift we can give to others, and we don’t have to wait until we’re dying to do it or until someone else is dying to let them know!

Surrender—While my mom clearly wasn’t happy about dying, something happened about a month and a half before she died that was truly remarkable—she surrendered. For my mom, who had a very strong will and was a fighter by nature, this probably wasn’t easy. However, watching her surrender to what was happening and embrace the process of dying was truly inspirational and life altering for those of us around her—and for her as well. So much of the beauty, healing, and transformation that occurred for her and for us during her dying process was a function of surrendering. Not giving up, giving in, or selling out, but making peace with what is and choosing to embrace life (and in this case death) as it shows up. Our ability to surrender in life is directly related to the amount of peace and fulfillment we experience.

My mom taught me and all of us that even in the face of death, it’s possible to experience joy—what a gift and a great lesson and legacy to leave behind. We don’t have to wait until painful things happen in our lives to wake us up—we can practice observing what we’re paying attention to and asking ourselves the simple but important question, Does this truly matter?

CHAPTER 2

Remember that a Bad Day for the Ego Is a Good Day for the Soul

A while back I was listening to a radio interview with Michael Bernard Beckwith, founder of the Agape International Spiritual Center and author of Life Visioning, and he said, A bad day for the ego is a good day for the soul. When I heard this, I laughed out loud. The wisdom of his statement resonated with me deeply. I thought about a number of experiences in my life that have been quite bad for my ego (i.e., embarrassing, disappointing, and even painful) but in hindsight have been great for my own growth and development (i.e., my soul).

One of the most painful and powerful examples of this was when my professional baseball career ended. I was 23 years old, in my third season in the minor leagues with the Kansas City Royals, when I injured my pitching arm. The injury led to a series of surgeries and ultimately the end of my playing career. Among the many lessons I learned from that experience, the most important had to do with appreciating myself, my talent, and my experience while it was happening, not after the fact. I spent most of my time while playing baseball all of those years (especially in college at Stanford and in the minor leagues) thinking I wasn’t good enough. I compared myself to everyone around me and held my breath hoping that I didn’t mess anything up. And, when it was all said and done and I hadn’t made it to the major leagues due to my injury, I thought, Oops, I think I missed the point.

This lesson has been a key motivator in my life and with my work, which is why I’ve written and spoken about it as much as I have all these years. However, a few years ago, I had an experience with my daughter, Samantha, that deepened the wisdom and insight from this lesson in a new way. It was April of 2010 and Samantha was four. She had the week off from preschool for spring break, and I decided to take the afternoon off so I could take her to see Cal and Stanford play an afternoon baseball game in Berkeley, not far from where we live. Her baby sister, Rosie, who was one and a half at the time, stayed home with Michelle. Given the nature of our lives, my schedule, and us still figuring out how to manage with two young kids, this was precious one-on-one time for Samantha and me, and we were both very excited about it. As we were driving to the game, Samantha, who was sitting in her booster seat behind me, asked, "Daddy, are you going to play in the