by Andrew Kravig, LMFT.

We live in a world that seems to be moving faster each day—spinning with uncertainty, division, and painful change. Whether it’s the weight of global events, personal loss, or the quiet ache of feeling ungrounded, many of us are walking through life carrying more than we put into words. And in these moments—when the ground beneath us feels shaky—what we most long for is often what we most resist: compassion for ourselves.

Self-compassion is not a passive turning away from reality. It is not about excusing ourselves or avoiding discomfort. Rather, it is a courageous presence—a tender and honest attending to our own hearts. In the midst of inner and outer storms, it becomes a gateway to clarity, resilience, and peace.

How do we learn to pause?

So often, when we are caught in fear, overwhelm, or grief, we move into reactive patterns. We may numb ourselves, lash out, overwork, or shrink away. These are deeply human responses. Our nervous system is simply trying to find safety.

But healing begins the moment we pause. The essential nature of the pause is that gentle stopping—a moment of arriving fully where we are. It is the gateway into presence, and it opens the door to remembering: this too is part of life.

When we pause, we invite the possibility of holding our experience with tenderness, instead of resistance. And this is where self-compassion begins.

RAIN: A Practice for Tumultuous Times

One of the most accessible and powerful ways I’ve found to cultivate self-compassion is the practice of RAIN. Passed on to me by Tara Brach, this acronym stands for:

R – Recognize what is happening

A – Allow the experience to be there, just as it is

I – Investigate with gentle curiosity

N – Nurture with self-compassion

Let’s explore this through the lens of navigating difficult times.

Recognize

The first step is simply to notice. Often, our suffering intensifies because we are not aware that we are caught in a trance of fear, judgment, or despair. By pausing and gently asking, “What am I experiencing right now?”, we begin to make contact with our inner experience.

You might notice tightness in the chest, a lump in the throat, or a swirl of anxious thoughts. Recognition is not about analysis, so don’t try to assess or pick it apart. It’s about simply, and truthfully acknowledging, this is what’s here.

Allow

Once we recognize what’s present, the next step is to allow it. This doesn’t mean we like it or agree with it—it means we give permission for the moment to be as it is.

You might say softly to yourself, “Yes… this belongs.” Or simply breathe and let the feelings be there. In doing so, we interrupt the cycle of pushing away or clinging. We begin to soften around the experience. In a world of sharp, brutal edges, and coarse brutality, softening is an act of defiance.

Investigate with Kindness

This step invites gentle curiosity. You might place a hand on your heart, or simply ask inwardly:

“What most wants attention right now?”

“What am I believing about myself?”

“What does this part of me need?”

It’s important here not to slip into analysis or self-criticism. This is not a mental inquiry—it’s a heart-based one. We’re listening from a place of care. If the feelings are strong, you might imagine yourself as a wise and loving presence sitting beside your vulnerable self, just offering companionship.

Nurture

This is where self-compassion takes root. After recognizing and gently investigating our pain, we ask: “What does this part of me need most right now?”

Perhaps it’s reassurance. Perhaps it’s safety. Perhaps it’s to be told, “It’s okay to feel this.” Or, “You are not alone.”

You might offer a gesture of comfort—a hand on your heart, a warm breath, or a phrase of loving-kindness. Something as simple as, “I’m here with you,” can be deeply healing.

In this moment, we become the loving presence we may have longed for. We become the refuge.

Holding the Bigger Picture

When we practice self-compassion, especially in difficult times, we’re not retreating from the world. We are deepening our capacity to meet it with wisdom and care. Our inner life is not separate from the collective—we are all waves in the same ocean.

In fact, when we tend to our own hearts with love, we naturally widen our compassion to include others. We realize: Just like me, others are struggling. Just like me, others long for peace.

This recognition reconnects us with our shared humanity.

A Softening Into Presence

Self-compassion is not something we have to earn. It is not reserved for when we’ve done everything right. It is available in every moment, especially the messy ones.

And the truth is, we need self-compassion most when it feels hardest to access. When the mind is spinning and the heart is heavy—this is the time to pause, to place a hand on the heart, and to remember: This too is life. This too is worthy of love.

If you are going through a tumultuous time right now, let this be a gentle reminder: you are not alone. Whatever waves are moving through you—grief, confusion, fear, anger—they are not signs of failure. They are invitations to deepen into presence.

Try pausing today, just for a moment.

Breathe.

Feel your body.

Offer yourself a whisper of kindness.

Begin there.

As we each learn to hold ourselves with more love, we become part of the healing of this world—one tender pause at a time.

Read more about therapy with Andrew here.