Why is it so hard to take care of ourselves? It’s a question I frequently ask myself. Why does it seem like too much trouble to cook dinner when I’m home alone even though I’d happily throw something together for the kids? Why will I run an errand after work for a client while my To Do list grows and grows?
This week, I’ve been asking this question a lot. My granddog, Stewart, is staying with me for the first time. He has no problem prioritizing what he needs. When he’s hungry, he eats. When he’s thirsty, he drinks. When he wants to go for a walk, he stands at the door, looks me in the eye, and moves his head forward. When he wants to go for a ride, he runs to the car and stands by the door. If he wants to sit on my lap, he scoots my laptop with his head to make room. He glares when he’s mad. He growls and entices when he wants to play. He’s cooperative when I tell him no, but he remains clear on his goal.
Yes, I know Stewart’s life is simpler than a human’s. Yes, I know that I can choose myself as a priority and say no more often, but watching Stewart proudly stride toward the gate at the Governor’s mansion during his walk as though he has total confidence that he belongs there reminds me that we all come into the world with this sort of belief – this level of presence. Then most of us learn to be less than.
Once we’ve embraced the concept of limiting ourselves, we encourage others to be less than. When they choose their truth as a priority, we often talk amongst ourselves about how they should behave differently. We call them selfish or self-centered and as a result limit ourselves to the shoulds we have bestowed upon everyone else.
Stewart has no concern about how much another dog eats, how far he can walk, whether he barks more or less. He may be curious, but it doesn’t affect how he manages his time or prioritizes his needs. He is happy to accept other dogs and other people as he experiences them in the moment. I can’t help but be struck by the simple wisdom there is in living in each moment and allowing those around us to do the same without condemnation.
I know that my choices are more complex than Stewart’s, but what decisions can I make that will bring me closer to living fully instead of as less than?
In this moment, when I am hungry I will feed myself fresh, delicious food. If I am limited on time, I will feel satisfied to eat raw fruit or vegetables, nuts, cheese, or leftovers. When I am feeling stiff, I will go for a walk or a swim. When I feel sad, I will sit with my sadness. When I feel afraid, I will not bury my fear in busyness, or a To Do list of shoulds. Instead I will sit with my fear with the confidence that it will dissipate before it consumes me.
I will accept the flaws in others because this will give me the capacity to accept those in myself. I will allow myself to be compassionate toward others when they fail me so I can feel compassion for myself when I fail. I will refuse to accept the notion that any of us are less than. I do not accept the idea that making a healthy choice limits my options. I will not use my time to make things more difficult than they are. I will humbly and strongly speak my truth secure in the knowledge that I am contributing to the collective wisdom around me. I will express gratitude because I am truly grateful.
I will practice, practice, practice because I will never be perfect. For that, I am grateful.
As always Stewart’s look says it all, “Are you crazy? I know I’m perfect!”
