Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

We are not "in love"...

but, we are love.

I'm glad,

It lasts longer.

Portia Nelson, There's a Hole in My Sidewalk

Portia Nelson's book of poetry just got to me yesterday. The 35th edition, originally published in 1997. Though it's a classic, I have only ever read the opening poem, the most famous one in it - Autobiography in Five Short Chapters. It is used often in therapy groups including those recovering from addiction largely to teach mindfulness and help free us from old patterns. The poems speak to inner conflict, personal struggle, and personal growth. Nelson was an actor, composer, and singer.

As most of you know, I believe compassion is an ancient and time-tested (and now highly researched) path to the Good Life.

(Reminder: compassion benefits include lower blood pressure, better immune function, increased longevity, buffer against stress, reduced anxiety, lower cortisol levels, increased feelings of joy, satisfaction, purpose; compassion fosters trust, resilience, accelerates recovery from disease and injury, lowers pain levels, regulates emotions, creates better relationships, helps create a more supportive society fostering peace and reducing feelings of loneliness!)

The practice of compassion is built on mindfulness. Noticing. Being fulling present. Aware of surroundings, thoughts, feelings, and experiences in the here and now. Without getting carried away by judgments. It includes emotional stability...holding steady with sensations without trying to resist them, fix them, or change them. Mindfulness also includes choosing to pay attention with curiosity and kindness.

After learning some mindfulness skills, we can better move on to noticing others and walking together on the journey more effectively and joyfully. Practice compassion.

I have always wanted to write about compassion (and my continued and aspiring journey) succinctly. That has been my struggle.

Re-reading Nelson's autobiographical poem helped me. It hit me deeply this morning and led to me writing my own autobiography afterwards. Perhaps the two autobiographies will offer something hopeful and helpful to you today.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

By Portia Nelson

I

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk

I fall in.

I am lost ... I am helpless.

It isn't my fault.

It takes me forever to find a way out.

II

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don't see it.

I fall in again.

I can't believe I am in the same place but, it isn't my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

III

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in ... it's a habit.

my eyes are open

I know where I am

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

IV

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

V

I walk down another street.

Copyright (c) 1993, by Portia Nelson from the book There's A Hole in My Sidewalk. 

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

June Darling

I

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

People fall in.

I am busy.

I do not see them.

I keep walking.

II

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

People fall in.

I see them.

I do not know them.

They are not like me.

I keep walking.

III

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

People fall in.

I see it happen.

I shake my head.

"They should know better.”

I keep walking.

IV

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

Someone falls in.

I stop.

I see his fear.

I see his wound.

He is human, like me.

I want to help.

I am afraid.

I cry.

I do not know what to do.

I walk away.

V

I walk down another street.

It looks the same.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

Someone falls in.

I stop.

I take a breath.

I look into the hole.

I see fear.

I see longing.

I see a human being.

I understand.

My heart is warm.

I squat beside him.

I call 911.

We wait together.

Yes, that last part of my autobiography is largely aspirational on many days as I mentioned earlier, (John is much better at it than I am) but I believe if I can imagine it, I can live into it.

The last verse was also inspired by the life of Chief of Police in Morristown, Tennessee, Roger Overholt. Chief arrived at the scene of an accident. A young teen girl was trapped under an overturned car. The night was cold and dark. It was clear that help would not arrive in time. Even if it did, there was little hope. Chief laid down beside the car and the trapped girl underneath. He found her hand. They held hands until the young woman peacefully died.

Compassion has a number of descriptions and definitions. The word compassion is rooted in the Latin concept compati (to suffer with). Researchers and theologians have other takes. It's often described as a pro-social, caring, and non-judgmental response to distress. My own definition today, influenced by our mentor, Frank Rogers, Jr., the work of Dr. Paul Gilbert, Dr. Tania Singer, and Dr. Kristin Neff, is an intention-based deep awareness of and sensitivity to our common humanity - the experiences, thoughts, and emotions of others and being willing to taking actions to prevent and alleviate suffering as well as to promote flourishing in others and in one's self.

I parenthetically mentioned the benefits of compassion above. Also many of what I call humanity-at-its-best skills are involved in effectively practicing compassion: emotional steadiness, awareness of self and surroundings, wisdom, courage, understanding of others, pro-sociality (and the many skills related to pro-sociality like good listening and validating emotions and tenderness), distress tolerance, motivation to act, humility, agency - just to name a few off the top of my head. You can see them in another Chief story.

Chief was called to help when a woman whose baby had died...Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. The woman would not give up the baby who had to be "bagged" and autopsied. The mother screamed at the "baggers" and bawled out, lifting her voice toward heaven. Chief softly walked into the baby's room where the mother was rocking her dead baby in her arms. He gently talked to her.

I am looking around the room. It's clear you have cared deeply for your baby. You have cherished her. There is so much love here. You are a good mother. This is hard. It is not your fault.

After some time had passed, Chief asked, if it would be okay if he held the baby - that he would take care. When he received the baby, he rocked it as he had seen the mother doing. Eventually, the Chief was able to tenderly take the baby away as he respectfully comforted the mother.

What a beautiful human-to-human encounter at a horrible moment. It might seem strange to find the story elevating, but it does lift me to see that we humans can do that for each other in our very worst moments. That's compassion at it's best. It's that thing that Portia Nelson beginning quote talks about - "we are love." And it's living a truly and fully good life.

There may be an emerging chapter for me...perhaps when I get a good look at the person pulled out of the hole, it will be the whole me.

How might we journey together to the Good Life by being more mindful and compassionate?

Sidebar: Go Team USA and a big WOW on those hockey players!! A nod to you, Matt and Sam Morton for helping us better understand the game. And as Sam Morton, our personal favorite hockey player, once said to me, "Why do people fight wars? Just get everybody playing hockey."

Sure, we might lose a few teeth (like Sam did and like Jack Hughes). I'm not as tough as those guys, but I'm in.

On the other hand, maybe we don't have to lose our teeth. We can be gritty like the 2026 Women's team, win the gold, wear required safety gear, and keep our teeth which John likes...it is the dentist in him.