Formally adopting the Upper Case K for Me.
Confession incoming: I don’t belong here and I know it because I’m that girl.
I’m that writer girl – the one that writes for a kindness website (see 1st line above) but really never applies the “K” word to herself. In fact, even using the upper case “K” is pretty fraudulent for me. I’m a big sham when it comes to self-kindness.
Apparently my body decided I wasn’t listening when I went down into the pit of depression in January. Yep, I gave in to the need to sit with it, to own the grief. I rested deeply and I reached out for support and love on the climb back up. But my body was holding on to an even greater lesson than depression was meant to impart; you know, the kind that gets delivered with a decidedly big boot to a very soft butt.
My overall health (let’s call her “Life Charge”) and my physical wellness (a.k.a. “The Bod”) formed a strategic alliance while I was sleeping, groaning and journaling my way through the last three months in an agonizing depressive place. (Think Germany and the Soviet Union in the lead up to World War II.) Life Charge wanted its purpose back, needed its meaning returned. It signed a secret treaty (maybe in blood) with The Bod who just wanted its power to be acknowledged by the world. What these two allies decided was that only a war would let them each achieve their plan. Where I come into this grandiose metaphor is that I’m the open meadow they both needed to occupy.
Yesterday morning I sat slumped on a bench and scanned my banged up shins and rubbed the bump on my head while I chewed my B-12 gummies. What was I doing sitting in the emergency room where really sick and injured people needed to be.
I was being forced to capitulate (one last war term, sorry).
After three months in a depressive pit (see my March post: https://kindovermatter.com/2016/03/finding-kindness-on-my-path-out-of-darkness.html), after a couple of falls, regular dizzy spells, perpetual nausea and pain in every joint in my body, my doctor heard the scream coming from parts of me that I didn’t know were damaged by my time in the pit.
“Go straight to the emergency room,” my doctor said. “I’ll meet you there rather than at the office.”
Adrenal fatigue, stress induced high blood pressure, anemia, more blood work, deficiencies in this, over-production of that. Conclusion – I’m a wreck.
I wrote last month about needing to tap into the limitless kindness available to me in order to pull out of the darkness. Today my message is that my kindness work is far from done.
Today I made a self-kindness task list. It’s a manifesto fitting of the two gorgeous dictators whose fervent alliance (remember Life Charge and The Bod?) kicked me hard enough to land me in the emergency room.
The list is long but it includes some characters that we all need to know better: vitamins, juicing, outdoor time, massage, hiking shoes, nutritious everything, all the water with lemon I can stand, my dogs, eight hours of sleep a day, friend time, essential oils and body cream.
At every turn I take today I know that I need to ask: “What can I do for myself right now?” Or, if I was caring for someone else in my condition: “What might I do for them?”
Self-kindness with a capital “K” is my mainline course of treatment now. Try it with me. What’s on your self-kindness list today?