Shame is an uncomfortable, unwanted, emotion. But is it always a bad thing?
I arrived early in the meditation room, looking for a place by the wall to set up a nest of cushions and blankets. I had broken a knee-cap and needed to find a way to support my splinted leg. The only space available was tight; between a fire escape and another nest of cushions. Someone had arrived before me to set out their spot. I could not see the occupier and, with a touch of irritation, I nudged the cushions back to make more space for myself. My neighbour soon appeared, steadying himself with a stick. I could see he was also dealing with pain.
I had seen this man around over some years, yet never got further than a brief nod or asked him what he suffered from. Now, for the first time, I felt empathy. I knew for myself what it was like to hobble around feeling vulnerable. But while my condition was temporary, his was ongoing. And until now, I had been oblivious. I felt a flush of shame.
Shame is an uncomfortable, unwanted, emotion. But does that always make it a bad thing?
Shame has different causes. It may arise when we find ourselves outside the social norms of the day. I once knew an older woman whose life was dominated by the shame of being illegitimate. I found this tragic. The circumstances were not of her making. Not to mention, irrelevant to my generation.
But in some cases, shame arises when we take a closer look at our own actions. It can connect us with a healthy ethical sensibility. In the Buddhist tradition we find the Sanskrit word ‘hri’, translated as shame or self-respect. Associated with the colour red, it expresses a flush of discomfort. A moment when we realise that we have been thoughtless or unkind. Shame in this sense is the first step in seeking reconciliation when we have not behaved well. Hri is seen as a constructive emotion. It is the prick of conscience that guards us against our less honourable impulses. It is interesting to reflect that an emotion can be positive, even if it feels unpleasant.
Western culture agrees that shame can be a positive quality. To describe someone shameless is no compliment. It suggests someone who cares little for the harmful consequences of their actions.
Buddhist teachings consider emotions to be skilful or unskilful. Terms such as good or bad tend to cast judgement on the person as a whole. Skilful or unskilful considers the intention and the actions resulting from the emotion. At the root of emotion is an energetic experience of the body that can be pleasant or painful. We become aware of a situation and stirred by it. Is it a threat or a refuge? How it pans out depends on how we interpret the situation and the responses that follow.
In my case, I felt irritated that someone had taken space that I wanted. As soon as I saw the person arriving with a stick it all changed. I felt something more akin to empathy and then shame. The energy in the emotion changed as I recognised not just my own needs, but those of another human being. Alongside discomfort, this shift in perspective also brought a warm quality of connection. I believe that I will treat this acquaintance with more consideration in future.
The feeling of shame can lead to beneficial changes. When thinking of positive emotions, we expect them always to be agreeable. But the word skilful includes the concept of challenge, as with learning any skill. We recognise that in trying to live up to the best in ourselves, we can get things wrong. And we can make corrections. Feeling shame includes knowing how we could have acted. It points us in a new direction. One where we seek greater compassion in our lives.
Since my fracture a month ago, the world seems full of people with sticks, crutches and casts. Where have they all come from?! I sense their vulnerability as they hobble about. I am alive to the edge of stress as they attempt to cross the road before the next car shoots along. I too am slow on my feet. Being unable to scuttle out of the way is scary. My own difficulty has increased my awareness of others in a similar condition.
Author and researcher Kristin Neff, breaks down compassion into three components:
Mindfulness. This is the capacity to be aware of feelings, situations and people. We pause to notice the joys and struggles in our own and others’ lives. We recognise the subjective nature of our own interpretations. Above all, we notice our own reactions.
Common humanity. Enmeshed in our own difficulties, it is easy to assume that I am the only one to suffer: everyone else is fine. This attitude leads to feeling isolated. But the tendency to isolation is a delusion. Everyone struggles. There is nobody on earth who does not suffer accident, illness, loss or misfortune. Knowing that we are not alone is comforting. It makes the challenges bearable.
The intention to be kind. When we tune in with suffering, kindness is the most effective response. It gives rise to the wish to ease the suffering if we can. Even when we cannot offer practical help, kindness is beneficial. Kindness is kinship: the honest, open connection between two human beings. This, in itself, is healing.
Once when I was unwell, a friend declared that she liked me better when I was ill. She said I was softer, less preoccupied. I saw her point. A place of vulnerability is an opening. It teaches us to be more aware of suffering in others. Frustrating and painful as it is, I cannot say that my broken knee has been a bad thing. I am a little wiser and kinder. It has, in its way, been a gift.
Image by Сергей Корчанов from Pixabay
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