Matter cannot be created or destroyed.
& yet when loved ones “pass”, we are left with a growling void.
Energy can only be transferred & transformed.
So, lament not over ephemeral “death”–
For- it is the omnipotent opportunity to be reborn.
Understanding Self-Compassion
“Unpacking WHAT?” I blurted out aloud, years ago. I was in the middle of attending a continuing teaching certification course.
“Unpacking standards,” the speaker repeated, much slower, almost to be clapping out the syllables.
Judging by the blank stare on my early teacher face, she looked up to my Bambi, doe-eyed self, and repeated, once again, “yes–really figuring out how you measure the things we ask you to measure.”
Floored. I was floored. My brain had never thought that far.
We have these objectives–these assessment tools–“points of relativity” from which we are supposed to evaluate humans…in comparison to how they are doing to other humans. 💁♀️
Each educator at every level has seen them, heard of them and even had them beat into their nightmares.
Yet so few times do we have John Maxwell type “leaders” who truly take time to explain what these subjectively defined target points mean. In my 8 years of teaching, I’ve seldom had someone really break down what each objective means– into real world, observable, measurable examples I could observe in the classroom.
How am I supposed to know what a 5 year old looks like when they are “applying knowledge of structure and phonics to decode text?” That sentence alone makes my own head explode 🤯
So here is a blog post about unpacking self-compassion.
Self-compassion, as defined by researcher Dr. Kristin Neff, involves treating yourself with the same kindness, care, and understanding that you would extend to a loved one in distress. The three core components are:
Observing your feelings without judgment or over-identification.
This is the one with whom I continue to wrestle a challenging relationship with. WE have a lot to learn about one another (which means…I have a lot of surrendering to do #nottodaysatan
Realizing that suffering and imperfection are shared human experiences.
Curiosity is a safer friend to sit with alone; sometimes the daunting intonations of its’ companions, shame and hope, are more arduous to sit with together.
Realizing that suffering and imperfection are shared human experiences.
Acknowledging your pain with warmth and understanding, rather than criticism.
Self-compassion isn’t self-pity, passivity, or a lack of accountability. Instead, it’s a powerful tool to support “emotional well-being”, especially for individuals processing trauma or working toward healing:
Why Self-Compassion Matters
When life’s challenges become overwhelming (and they will), self-compassion serves, as an anchor. Research shows that compassion-focused practices can reduce anxiety, depression, and feelings of shame, key obstacles for those healing from PTSD or cPTSD. A lack of self-compassion amplifies self-criticism and isolation, leaving many trapped in cycles of guilt or fear. Embracing self-compassion creates a foundation for healing and reconnecting with yourself.
In a fast-paced world that values hustle, achievement, and productivity, self-compassion often takes a backseat. For many—including those dealing with trauma, PTSD, cPTSD, or the aftermath of difficult experiences like assault—
Practicing kindness toward yourself can feel foreign, or even impossible. However, self-compassion is a vital step toward healing and empowerment.
In the next informative blog post, you’ll discover 10 simple yet transformative ways to cultivate self-compassion, backed by mindfulness, presence, and gentle practices you can integrate into everyday life.

Love you always, ALL ways!
IG: @mahamabidtalent
By: Maham Abid
She stood near the edge- pretending to fall-
Imagining her landing- losing it all.
A “graceful flight” to death she’d take–
Maybe then, her soul would finally wake.
For years she’d floated away, anyway–
Pretending– barely making it, day-by-day.
She knew there was more–there HAD to be!
She romanticized descending ever so delicately.
Perhaps, she’d find her wings at last?
Would she fall slow? Would she fall fast?
Would it really take her breath away?
Should this, after all, be her final day?
Nothing to live for–nothing at all.
Reasons to give up, reasons to fall.
Inch-by-inch, she reached the end.
Her back formed an arch–a lovely bend.
She was not afraid in the least–
Her destination was awaiting her ominously beneath.
A rippling river, smoothing the rocks–
–wind whipping through her caramel locks.
She took a breath, and finally made her choice.
The air inhaled her quivering voice.
She stepped further and further–away from the ledge.
Never again–not THIS way, she pledged.
She collapsed in a heap on the cold, cracked ground.
Her sobbing and the river intermingled their synchronized sounds.
How had she gotten to her wits end?
I think, too many years of playing pretend…
“I’ve got you; you’re safe,” whispered a Voice in the night.
Comforting and warm–she knew it was right.
“I’ve wanted to talk and finally be heard.”
“Now is the time; here are the words.”
She listened intently, instead of wondering Who it was.
A fullness enveloped her with Love in each pause.
“You don’t have to hide; it is not your time to die.”
“I’m here with you, now, to lull and to guide.”
“Trust me and follow all that I say…”
“I promise to be beside you, forever and a day.”
The stars up above her twinkled brilliantly with delight.
Still as could be, she nestled into the Voice of the night.
“Are you an angel? Who are you?” she asked,
“Tell me! Are you God? Have I found You at last?”
This voice seemed closer– it came from within.
“You see, ” it smiled, “I am all of those things.”
“I am a friend, you could say– I am you in a Higher Form.”
“I’ll keep you safe and promise to keep you warm.”
“Just listen and feel, I’ll help you through…”
“Now you’ll know just what to do.”
“Tomorrow’s a new day–a second chance…”
“Now dry your tears; life is just a dazed dance.”
“I love you and know you love Me too.”
“…and now you know JUST what you have to do.”
Somehow, as vague as it was, the girl understood.
She would make it. There was no doubt; she really would!
No more dreams of dying and death–
–no more longing for her final breath.
She wasn’t alone–she never had been.
Its come time to live and throw caution to the wind!
________
Love you always, all ways.
IG: @mahamabidtalent

April 19th, 2025
Most days, I feel as if I’m grasping at straws,
like a cat gripping the edge of a well with all her claws.
But, unlike her, if I manage to get out–
I can’t trek this Earth without fear and doubt.
It feels as if someone swirled a ladle inside my brain.
The memories–cracked and fragmented–yet the pain remains the same.
The resourceful rescuer that lives in my head–
–has tried its hardest to put the tormenting thoughts to rest.
But the benevolent body–it never forgets.
It may silence the screams, but it stores them as stress.
Then, one day, when nothing seems to have gone awry at all–
–as the trees shed what is dead, and autumn leaves begin to fall.
A piercing cry echoes through the crisp air.
The horror in her howling is almost too much to bear.
“Someone needs my help!”; so I search frantically around to see–
–only to find that the bleeding bellow escaped from none other than me.
By: Maham Abid Written: 04/21/2025
Perhaps, it’s finally time to let my guards down.
When you’re hurting alone, it doesn’t matter if you have a crown.
How can I easily fool myself this well?
I can easily camouflage as “sunshine” to those going through hell.
It’s all a facade, and I know you can see right through.
It’s me who has been unwilling to look at the pain that’s clearly true.
The type of strife that you will get to hear,
might bring even the “strongest ones” of you to tears.
Some may think this isn’t an appropriate story to share.
But selfishly, sharing with you all makes me feel a little less scared.
The parts of my story that seem too daunting to bear–
Suddenly don’t appear clouded with fear, all because I dared to share.
Maybe doing it “alone” is not the way to go…
It’s equal parts petrifying to let the real “me” finally show.
Rejection, and judgement are not at all what I need right now.
I need a place to process this grief, to feel, and let it all out.
But, being judged, ostracized, and the things I fear most—
—are ironically the ones I’ve experienced the most up-close.
It’s irrelevant because I already feel unworthy of belonging and love,
but maybe human connection is my “prayer answered” from above.
What if, little by little, I begin to let others in?
Perhaps, I won’t feel like such an unforgivable sin.
So when I begin to ponder about my roller-coaster of a life,
My assuming the role of the “black sheep” doesn’t come as a surprise.
Sure, there are benefits to being “big, bad, and bold..”
Yet, softness can warm up crumpled crevices
that fickle fear won’t ever have the privilege to hold.
Love you all ways, always ❤
IG: @mahamabidtalent