wooza wooza

try a little tenderness

Charlie Parker, my mini poodle puppy, likes it when I nuzzle his face in the morning and call him my wooza wooza. That is, I think he likes it. I like it, the way my mouth forms the ‘w’ sound, sort of puckering up as if to blow out candles on a beautiful birthday cake or plant a surprise kiss on someone’s cheek. It’s a downright tender gesture and creates a downright sweet sound. It is impossible to say wooza wooza in a harsh or disapproving tone without laughing at yourself. Try saying wooza wooza¹, right now, and see what I mean. Purse those lips, blow out the candles. Wooza wooza is not in the lexicon of assholes. It belongs to the tender-hearted.

The world needs more wooza wooza. As a life-time member of the club of really-good-people-who-hate themselves, I can tell you that self-hate is a thing, a big bad painful thing, like a fire brand on your spirit, corrosive and gnawing on your well-being. I have over time with patient endurance tamed my self-hate with - wait for it - good old fashioned tenderness, loving, kind and gentle. It’s almost un-American to contemplate. Too sweet. Too vulnerable. I’m thinking Bambi here!

Early on in the pandemic I looked around at my life - didn’t we all? - and realized I had to ‘take hold’ so to speak. Hitching up my sweatpants I got in touch with the meditation teacher who had introduced me to MBSR (Mindful Body Stress Reduction) meditation a few years prior to the pandemic. I had stopped meditating and wanted to get back to it in lockdown. He urged me to take a gentle approach, no expectations of a rigid daily ritual, a set amount of minutes, daily monitoring of my time on the floor, scheduling in ink, no taskmaster stuff. Maybe treat my daily walks with Charlie as my meditation, he suggested. This struck me as vaguely lame. The world was going to hell! I had to do something bold, didn’t I? Get on top of this pandemic thing. But it was springtime in Seattle and what did I think I could really do , anyway? I reluctantly took his advice. My neighborhood was in full bloom. While the world as I knew it disintegrated around me and uncertainty and fear moved in for the duration, I slowed myself down, adopted a more gentle approach and stopped to smell the lilacs. In the midst of a catastrophe, gentle contemplation of the beauty of spring was a tender tonic.

Self-hate is not rational. It is unresponsive to logic. I can remind myself that I am liked and even admired by some, but it doesn’t necessarily shift my harsh view of myself. Or if I do get a temporary lift in spirits, the familiar negative outlook soon returns as part of me remains a self-hate holdout, existing beyond reason. I imagine that you have felt this way, too.

When we are stewing in our negative self-talk, can’t fall back to sleep in the middle of the night, or break free of negativity’s grip, we have to try something different. I suggest to leave reason out of it, same with fixing things, don’t try to fix anything, nix on half-hearted assurances that things will get better, because, really, who knows? and make a bee-line to the irrational territory of the heart. Put on your pith helmet, leave logic behind, we are in a foreign land. Follow me here as we approach a very upset Karin with some ‘wooza wooza’:

“Karin, I see that you are crying and in distress. (validation)
“I see that you are feeling very critical of yourself, telling yourself that you are too fat and too old and unlovable.” (witnessing)
”I am right here with you.” (compassionate attendance)
”I will not leave you. I am staying with you.” (constancy)
“I wish you peace, Karin. I wish you love. I wish you all manner of good things. I am here.” (wishing the best for me)

You see how I have intervened on a dark moment with concern and care? I don’t have to diagnose, fix or advise. I am just declaring the I am ‘for’ myself, no matter what. I am extending myself to myself. This approach works on fearful and anxious moments as well. Tenderness works. It really does.

As Otis Redding commands, “You’ve got to hold her, squeeze her, never leave her! You got ta, you got ta, you got ta try some tenderness.”

Yeah, baby!

1. The ‘woo’ in wooza sounds like the ‘woo’ sound in the word ‘wool’.