I used to justify my own therapy through the lens of helping others more.
If I do this workshop, I can help others more.
If I get energy work on a regular basis, I can help others more.
If I eat healthfully, I can help others more.
If I take care of my emotions, I can help others more.
If I read these books, I can help others more.
If I make more money, I can help others more.
If I go to school, I can help others more.
I realize now, I was making a mistake, costing me both my pleasure and my soul.
Because what is the point, if I’m giving away all my energy, and keeping none to sustain my dreams?
Our energetic health is the foundation of our success.
And I was giving all my energy away to others, leaving nothing for myself.
So, I’ve turned a corner.
A big corner.
And my new self-care prescription?
I take care of myself
because it feels good.
When I did things for myself because it allowed me to help others, I never allowed myself to receive the joy of the thing itself.
Tasting a delicious strawberry. Because it feels good.
Delighting in new information. Because it feels good.
Reading fiction for pleasure. Because it feels good.
I’d experience things, and they’d be sent immediately out into the world, without me actually enjoying them or relishing in the moment.
In a culture of sharing, I think a lot of us feel this way. We see a beautiful thing, take a picture, and post on Instagram. We have a beautiful experience, and share it on Facebook. Or we have a great weekend, and share it with all our co-workers.
Or in my world, I have a powerful realization, and write about it online.
I suppose like I’m doing right now.
But in the past few weeks, I’ve started keeping secrets. By secrets, I mean sharing experiences only with myself. Delighting in mystery a little bit. Allowing myself to see something, and hold it deep inside, for me and my soul to giggle about together.
And withholding my thumb from “post” or “share.”
I have so much more energy this week. Because for the first time in my life, I’m holding my own power. And centering it within.
The faucets sending my energy willy nilly into the universe have been uninstalled and disassembled.
And day by day, I’m slowly centering back into my core.
And finding the place where I feel free to experience the joy
of just being me.
Where I eat. Because it feels good.
Where I meditate. Because it feels good.
And where I write. Because it feels good.