a cadence of self-compassion

In the early years of my photography practice, after I’d gotten pretty comfortable with my camera, using my camera became less about improving my photography and more about a meditative practice of searching for beauty. For years, whenever I was struggling with something having nothing to do with photography — a challenge at work, say, or a tough news cycle — I’d grab my camera and find something pretty to photograph. It was a great way to get myself out of my head and just fully focus on the beauty in front of me.

With all the news from Gaza, from Sudan, from Ukraine, and hell, even the United States, I’ve been shooting a lot, lately.

As part of my work, I do a lot of public speaking. And when I do, hands down, there is one question that I get from folks more than any other question, and it is this:

“How do I get the strength to keep going in my activism when the world is a horrible, horrible place?”

And hands down, my number one answer is develop a cadence of self-compassion.

This sounds like a cliché thing to say, but I want to be clear: the important word in that sentence above is cadence.

I think most people believe that self-compassion is something you do when you’re fully depleted: when the stress becomes overwhelming or the exhaustion becomes debilitating. That self-compassion, in the form of rest or self-care, is something you do to recover. And of course, this can be true. But I’d like to point out that as humans, we are part of the natural world — and nature, when things are working as they should, is cyclical. The moon waxes and wanes. The tides ebb and flow. The seasons come and go. Even the way we breathe — in and out, and back in again. But notice: we don’t inhale after we’ve expelled all the air from our bodies, and we’re gasping for breath. We do it in rhythm. It’s a cadence. Everything is a cadence.

And so, I believe self-compassion should be a cadence — it’s how we’re designed to move through life. We shouldn’t think about taking care of ourselves after we’re drained. We should check in with ourselves as part of our natural course of living, moving, activating. This cadence is how we maintain and even increase our strength. Tapping into rest and ease and joy and beauty is how we remind ourselves what’s worth fighting for. And I’m not talking about just spa days or lavish vacations (although they’re undeniably lovely). I’m talking about a rhythm of celebrating each other through connection. Taking mindful and intentional deep breaths. Moving our bodies with joy. Eating good food. And yes, even shooting wildflowers. And, by the way, we shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this — because this is part of our activism. It’s only by doing this that we develop the resilience and strength to do the hard things that we must do to make our worlds better.

So this week, I wish for us all an awareness of our own cadences, and the development of rhythmic, cyclical self-compassion. May we periodically and regularly take small, metaphorical inhalations: actions that provide moments of joy, replenishment, nourishment.

Because the world needs us as healthy as possible, if we’re going to make it better.