A Eulogy to Shame

Last night, Shame left us.

And I can’t help but note how few have come to mourn it’s passing.

Shame lived a too-long life. A life spent holding back courage and torpedoing any sense of self-worth or belonging.

I asked a few of Shame’s friends to share reminisces. But Fear, Doubt, and Self-Loathing were too busy working to break away.

So, I thought I’d tell you how Shame met its maker. It’s a gruesome way to spend a eulogy. But it’s just you and me gathered here today; why not be frank?

Shame withered in compassion’s hands. When we started to put love in the places inside us where humiliation and guilt grow, Shame started to dry up. And when we put more love there, Shame dried up more.

I don’t think Shame has totally left us. It will come kicking back again, I’m sure.

And this will be our response: more compassion. Give more compassion to our wounds, hurting, longings, imperfections that come with this human flesh.

I can’t say Shame will be missed. It sucked an awful lot of good, brave life away.

But I can say Shame gave us a chance – and a brilliantly disguised one at that – to give ourselves love. And it was when we took that chance, and took it again and again and again, that Shame started to wither in compassion’s hands.

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