Recently, my client was beating themself up.
Earlier in the week, they had had a meltdown in the morning over a cup of coffee they had spilled—a full-on tantrum as they described it. When they brought it up, I could tell they were feeling really bad about it, dismissing it as pure childishness.
So, as I do whenever I get a whiff of a strong judgment, I decided to dig a bit deeper.
This person arises early and makes a cup of coffee first thing in the morning. It’s part of their awakening and centering ritual. In some ways, it’s the foundation and springboard for their day, and typically includes a single cigarette and a walk with the dog.
Their spouse, who usually sleeps in, woke up early that morning. They came into the kitchen, and expressed a desire to go along on the walk, too.
It was then that the coffee spilled, followed by an even bigger outpouring of tears and anger about the mess. And right behind that was a wave of shame around the seeming outsized reaction. Which in turn was followed by a simple truth bomb from their spouse: "I don’t think this would have happened if I hadn’t come down."
The spouse understood: it was never about the coffee. But, paradoxically, it wasn’t anger at them, either. My client would truly love to go for a long walk together. The tears were about my client’s need for solitude and grounding in the morning, and their reluctance to make the request, largely out of fear of seeming “selfish.”
It’s part of the ongoing process of recognizing, clarifying, and prioritizing the self-care that is important to them. Put another way, it’s part of the process of helping to see that their own needs and desires are worth paying attention to. That *they* are worth paying attention to.
So we talked about being clear about both of those things next time. “I would be thrilled to go for a walk with you. But first, I just need a little time to myself. Maybe in half an hour?” Offered gently and lovingly. A simple request that will allow for a more clear-eyed, honest, and easy embrace of themself and their partner.
How about you? How often do you send that hurt side of yourself to the corner to soak in shame, without looking any closer?
Why couldn’t you ask yourself, with full compassion, “Whoa, I can tell that you’re feeling pretty strongly about something. What’s up? How can I help?” That’s what a friend would do.
In this case, for my client to just beat themself up and dismiss their reaction as childish was the wrong solution to the wrong problem--but one so easy to make. One that was probably modeled throughout their life.
That's a pity, because buried under that tantrum was an important truth about themself. It wasn't just a pouty fit, but a portal to deeper self-understanding and self-appreciation. An invitation.
So pay attention the next time you (figuratively) spill your coffee. Lean in and look. There just may be some gold in those grounds.
