16 Sep Loving yourself is a rebellious act
And lately I’ve forgotten how to rebel. A lot of the time I remember. A lot of the time I can walk the walk and live the way I wish we all would live, loving my life and my self and celebrating, exploring, cherishing that life. But… not lately. Maybe the problem with a full life is that it gets overfull and before you can grow big enough to manage it all you fail. All over the place, sometimes.
I want to be a good person. A person who is kind and thoughtful, a good listener, honest, a true friend, a sympathetic and involved mom who is passionate about the practice of her art and always growing. I want to make the world a better place and I want to be worthy of the incredible gifts life has given me, of love and friendship and opportunity. And then all that wanting, all that striving, sometimes it leaves me in one great gust and leaves me empty of everything except an awareness of how much better I could be. How much more I could be doing. All the ways I wish I was different.
So this fall, as the days got shorter and the realities of special needs kids starting in new classrooms led to weeks of unending behavioural challenges- among children and grownups both- and my sometimes unreliable hormones kicked me in the pants and I started cleaning The Basement of Doom where all my unfinished projects and dust-covered dreams have gone to die, I forgot to rebel.
I forgot that I am good enough.
That’s it, right there. There is so much I want to do and be better at that I forget to allow myself that grace. And I need it. Because I am a striving sort of person. I believe so passionately in myself and in my strength that if I do not succeed I assume it is only that I did not try hard enough. Care enough. Want enough. Get off my ass enough. And of course, there’s truth in that. Plenty enough truth to damn me.
BUT. What I need to remember is that that’s okay. Because even then, without all those other “enoughs,” I can be good enough. Just the way I am. I can want to do better and still love the totally flawed, totally imperfect, not always especially good or strong or dedicated, self that I have. I can make peace and make friends with her. I can treat her kindly. I can dream big, wonderful dreams for her and then I can celebrate whatever it is that she achieves, even if today it’s just standing in the sunshine, taking a deep breath and allowing herself to be loved.
So I’m writing this because I’m betting that some of you out there need to hear it just as much as I need to say it. You’re not everything you want to be, and that’s okay. You’re not always as good or kind or patient as you want to be, and that’s fine. You are fine, just the way you are. You’ve got room to grow, and that’s allowed. It doesn’t have to be today. You are loveable. You are precious. You are enough.
Let’s rebel, shall we?