Sometimes we have to stop everything, retreat, and lick our wounds. It's the right thing to do. Many years ago, I was walking with a group of people on the frozen wave caps along the edge of Lake Michigan, and I went through the ice up to my thigh on one leg. We were fairly close to the house where we were all staying, and there was a flurry of brief concern over my situation, but very quickly, once it was clear that I was fundamentally ok, everyone's attention turned elsewhere. I was left alone to deal with my wet and freezing leg. Instinct kicked in. I knew I needed to get inside and into the shower as quickly as possible. I had a kind of urgent concern for myself, and attended to the comfort of my poor leg and foot with tenderness and great care. I still remember that it felt good to take care of myself properly in that way. And when we are pushed to it by some drama, I believe we are all likely to do the same.
But in everyday living, not so much. We are quick to discount ourselves and our wounds. We are willing to suffer and ache and be martyrs, or to be tough beyond necessity. We push beyond reason, live on caffeine and not enough sleep, eat poorly, repress our feelings, stay in abusive relationships, speak unkindly to ourselves, and even go so far as to hate ourselves, our lives, and our circumstances. So when, on occasion, we are forced into self-care and self-attendance- after surgery, after injury, I believe there is something to remind us in that. We are our own caretakers. How are we doing at that job?
I treat myself tenderly today. I am gentle and loving and I attend to my needs with care. I speak kindly to myself, and I refrain from criticism and harsh judgment. I am my own best friend.
