Free mini art print with every $50 you spend in the shop! Free mini art print with every $50 you spend in the shop!

A Prayer for Self-Compassion & All Your Broken Pieces

A Prayer for Self-Compassion & All Your Broken Pieces

Here's what self-compassion means: giving yourself permission to feel the way you're feeling and to be imperfect, and *still* be loved and accepted.

Due for some of that kind of love? Read this prayer for self-compassion. It's mercy where you need it most, glue for all your broken pieces.

Tip: reading this prayer at night gives you a chance to reinterpret your day, and yourself, through the lens of compassion. That shift in perspective turns mistakes and heartaches into guides instead of chains. And it feels like sweet relief.

But you can read it whenever you need it, of course.

And if you need a big reminder of who you are, take this poetry print home with you.

“Hold yourself as a mother holds her beloved child.” — Buddha

Here's what self-compassion means: giving yourself permission to feel the way you're feeling and to be imperfect, and *still* be loved and accepted. Due for some of that kind of love? Read this prayer for self-compassion. It's mercy where you need it most, glue for all your broken pieces.

A Prayer for Self-Compassion

To the life that breathes through me,

May you bear witness to my wounds and all of my broken pieces, and help me to treat even these things with compassion.

When I must face loss, may I feel your tenderness -- the tenderness of my own being. When I hurt, grant me the patience to heal in my own time, my own way. For every frustration and mistake, may I uncover the strength to lean in and listen, and to not turn away.

Have mercy on me when I'm most in need of it.

Bring to my experience a sense of awe for life and for myself, so that I can keep opening up to this moment. Show me how self-compassion and forgiveness are the roots of courage and resilience.

Help me see that I have nothing lacking in myself, that my very essence is the divinity of unconditional love. Remind me again how to fill my own well with the love I've been looking outside myself for.

Breathe into me the memory of my wholeness, so that I may bear witness to every imperfection with peace and respect.

Through this compassionate awareness, may I see myself more clearly. May I know myself in my entirety.

And then, with a steady gaze, watch as I transform all of my pain into a great river of love. See how I hold both my sorrow and my joy, every dream and fear, in the still-vast ocean of my heart.

See how I expand to encompass every part of myself.

And through this connection to it all -- to all of myself -- may I reach out and touch the pain of those around me, with greater compassion and grace.

May I be the one who pulls others into my love.

Let it be.

May it be so.

And so it is.

Thank you.

. . .

Tell me:

Which part of this prayer did you most need to read today?

Tell me in the comments. I read every single one, and I'd love to know!

And so it is,

Jen

P.S. Need something to remind you on the daily, that you're brave and resilient? Go see what's in my shop. There's something there I made just for you...

Here's what self-compassion means: giving yourself permission to feel the way you're feeling and to be imperfect, and *still* be loved and accepted. Due for some of that kind of love? Read this prayer for self-compassion. It's mercy where you need it most, glue for all your broken pieces.

Comments on this post (13)

  • Jul 05, 2024

    “And then, with a steady gaze, watch as I transform all of my pain into a great river of love. See how I hold both my sorrow and my joy, every dream and fear, in the still-vast ocean of my heart.” I needed to remember that both things can be true – I can hold sorrow and joy, courage and fear AT THE SAME TIME. The one does not destroy the other. Thank you.

    — Amanda

  • May 08, 2023

    This is beautiful and it really touched my heart. My favorite part:

    Hold yourself as a mother holds her beloved child. This part brought me to tears.

    Thank you. Much appreciation! 😍

    — Lisa

  • Jan 02, 2022

    “breathe into me the memory of my wholeness.” 💓

    Thank you.

    — Kendra Mehringer

  • Jan 02, 2022

    Every single part of this was beautiful, beautifully written, spoken and heard. I have received it well. Thank you a million times over. Amen. I am healing. In the name of God in His Holy Spirit, in Jesus name I am clean. Amen.

    — Alexandra

  • Aug 10, 2020

    Immah, thank you deeply for sharing this. I can only imagine how difficult that in itself is, never mind what you’ve gone through and made it through in your lifetime. All of that, and you’re still here. You’re still available to compassion, for yourself and for others, even though it’s so hard so much of the time. Your healing process is all your own. Take as much time as you need. Some things take days, others take years. Take it one day at a time no matter. Sending you all my love and what light you need. Hope is eternal, the source is your own beating heart. x

    — Jennifer Williamson

  • Aug 10, 2020

    Hi! Thank you so much for this. It has all deeply impacted me, but I love the way the prayer asks that we can reach out to others and so help to heal their issues too. In my childhood, acknowledging one’s pain was met with accusations of self pity and as such, was worthy only of contempt and derision. I had an horrific childhood, difficult life as a young adult and I have lately realised the extent to which these experiences have damaged me. My mother died when I was 22 and I have never been able to grieve for her. I have a large young family and I have been in some very difficult relationships. I was tortured as a child by my mother and siblings. I am estranged from my father because I attempted to bring my siblings to justice but I was unable to do do because of the ages of my siblings at the time. Prior to her death she acknowledged her failingsas a mother, but she was so ill that it wouldn’t have been right to agree and so I dismissed it and held her instead.
    Sadly, this has very deeply affected my relationship with my eldest children. They’re young adults and I am struggling so much as deep down I just want my parents to rescue me and of course that is impossible. They’ve become like surrogate mother figures for me.. I don’t know how to have relationships. My parents ignored the fact that my siblings were torturing me, even when it occurred in their presence. I haven’t seen them for almost 2 weeks and it may be some time before I see them again. I can’t cope with relationships with adults because as soon as anyone scratches the surface I am covered in emotional pain, distress and trauma. I either freeze and withdraw from friendships or end up massively over sharing private things. I have had some experience of being cherished as a parent, but that terrified little girl inside feels as though her parents have come to rescue her and it is a sad, unholy mess. I will get stronger but I have along way to go. Suddenly my children are becoming emotional caregivers to their mother and it has made me regress. I have health problems but I was practically living in my bed because I felt safe there. Safe from judgement and domestic drudgery when it was agony to stand. I feel as though I am a husk of who I should be and people blame me for allowing it to happen. Self Compassion is the only answer, thank you so much. God bless you.

    — Immah Synnah

  • May 25, 2020

    I just found you and I will never let you go! Love all of this!! Like ALL.of.IT!! ❤️🙏🏼❤️

    — Dee

  • Jan 26, 2020

    Jolinda… Gypsy… thank you for opening your soul to this <3 so glad these words spoke to you

    — Jennifer Williamson

  • Jan 26, 2020

    Your touch my soul. I need it to read that. Thank you.

    — Jolinda

  • Dec 30, 2019

    Beautiful, thank you

    — Gypsy Lu

  • Dec 20, 2019

    You’re so welcome, Rose :) thanks for reading!

    — Jennifer Williamson

  • Dec 20, 2019

    This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

    — Rose Hahn

  • Jul 17, 2019

    See how I hold both my sorrow and my joy, every dream and fear, in the still-vast ocean of my heart.

    — Sam

Leave a comment

I think you'll like these too...