Softening to Myself
June 2, 2024
I used to will myself awake early enough to be out before sunrise, even in June and July when the sun rises before 6 AM. I don’t know how I did it, I never used an alarm. I had this sense that if I didn’t do it I would miss out. I rigidly tried to get myself to bed earlier and thought being tired was my punishment for failing to meet my own standards.
Now, I am softening to myself. I understand that some days my body needs a little more sleep. Some days it takes me a bit longer to fall asleep even after my nighttime rituals. I understand that if I miss photographing a sunrise it’s ok. There will be more sunrises, the universe doesn't operate from lack. It’s ok to allow myself to ebb and flow, to operate from desire rather than rigid rules, kindness rather than punishment.
The birds don’t seem to mind if I walk out my door a few minutes after sunrise rather than twenty minutes before. The house wren still sings in my neighbor’s tree. The butterflies and dragonflies don’t really wake up until the sun warms their wings. I might miss the colors that sometimes grace the dawn skies but even those are fewer in summer.
I still catch myself sometimes saying something harsh or rushing because I am late. When I notice this I’m beginning to gently remind myself I’ve decided to be more flexible with my mornings. I apologize to my inner rule keeper for my harsh words and reassure her there is no punishment for being “late”. I let her know that “late” is no longer a thing when it comes to mornings. I let her know I love her.
My inner rule keeper has taken a beating over the years. Understandably, she doesn’t yet trust that she will not get in trouble. One of the challenges of living in my brain is that I am sometimes forgetful, in that absent-minded professor sort of way. I get focused on one thing and forget what I was doing ten minutes before. It’s been like this since I was a child. My mother often said I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached. That’s probably not true - my head is probably the one thing I wouldn’t forget!
I’m not sure exactly when I decided this focus and forgetfulness was a flaw worthy of flogging, possibly after getting in trouble for not doing something for the umpteenth time. I do my best to manage this feature with tools and technology. I set a timer when I brew tea or use the oven. My garage door sends an alarm to my phone if it’s left open too long. The keys go in the bowl by the door and I must check the bowl before doing laundry (electronic keys are expensive!). I’ve tried numerous planner systems and to-do lists and there are post-it notes all over my house.
Even so, sometimes I’m going to slip up. In a world of too many reminders, alarms, text messages, and emails it’s pretty easy to miss a signal. Practicing self-compassion is a journey and I often forget it’s the little moments where it matters most. It’s the little moments where my inner self learns whether I really mean it or not. It’s the little moments where I can build trust.
My natural pace is deeper and slower than the world around me, or so it seems. Learning to honor that pace is challenging in an instantaneous kind of world. Yet learning to honor that pace is where I will find rest, peace, and satisfaction.
I finally made it through the thousands of photos I took during spring migration and I will be slowly including those in posts over the next few weeks - or months. I’ll mix them in with what’s happening now, the baby birds, butterflies, dragonflies and flowers that are appearing everywhere now. I sometimes think I am running “late”, in a world where folks are posting what happened five minutes ago, but I’ve finally decided it’s ok for me to operate in my own time.
My friend Cali Bird wrote about her deepening self-compassion practice which inspired my writing today. You can read her post here:
Pondering Cali’s note about writing a love letter to herself daily reminded me of a poem I love called “God Says Yes to Me” by Kaylin Haught:
I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic and she said yes I asked her if it was okay to be short and she said it sure is I asked her if I could wear nail polish or not wear nail polish and she said honey she calls me that sometimes she said you can do just exactly what you want to Thanks God I said And is it even okay if I don't paragraph my letters Sweetcakes God said who knows where she picked that up what I'm telling you is Yes Yes Yes
(With thanks to my friend Oriah who shared this poem with me a few years ago.)
My photos are still reflecting May, but as we enter June I was thrilled to be surrounded by lots of pearl crescent butterflies, sulphur butterflies, skippers, and even a swallowtail. The wildflowers some call weeds are blooming and the neighbors want them mowed - but in the meantime I’m enjoying them! This morning I also heard a bell’s vireo which made me happy. Every year since I’ve lived here there’s been at least one in the neighborhood and I was getting concerned, but he let me know not to worry.
Tell me, how do you practice self-compassion? Where can you soften to yourself?
#1 I hope you don't write about what happened 5 minutes ago. It won't possibly be as good, as thoughtful, as well written, as this. #2 Thank you for your amazing photos and birds. Amazing. #3 You sound a lot like my adult son who realized later in life that he has ADHD (which answered my concerns about his childhood penchant for leaving jackets everywhere) and has found lots of help and support (books, online, therapy) by looking at the world not through disability and less-than and needing to change, but by allowing in the wildly creative person he is, who sometimes (well, often) forgets something.
I struggle with many of those same things, Karen. Practicing self-compassion (or not) makes a huge difference in how I feel about myself day to day. Thank you for this lovely reflection and this wealth of beauty. xo