It is (only just) over half way through February and I realise I haven't posted a single blog post since the end of January. That's over two weeks and I haven't even checked my blog feed or thought to write.
In fact, that is a white lie - I have thought about posting a lot, but each time I sit down at my computer a pang of guilt hits my gut and I realise I should be doing something else; I should be writing that invoice or preparing that lesson or drafting that essay or writing that proposal, or just reading... Just reading something useful. Even reading a book for my essay would be a 'better' use of my time than writing a blog post. That is probably all very true as well. So why am I sat here, coconut oil mask on my face, cinnamon scented candles burning, comfy yoga pants on, and having just enjoyed a bowl of the butternut squash and carrot soup I made earlier? Without allowing myself to feel guilty, I think I am doing these things today because this is what I need to do. It is Valentines weekend afterall, and I did spend the evening yesterday with such wonderful company eating sushi and drinking wine, but I think also if nothing else, practising self-care is a form of inward love. Love for the self, which in turn radiates to all those around us. Love is more than a glittery heart and a box of chocolates, or a box of glittery heart-shaped chocolates. I recently had a conversation with a friend whereby we discussed love. What does it mean to be loved and to love in return? How is that done?
What I realise is that it is not a simple equation; it is not a determined set of rules, it is a felt sense. It is an unspoken language and a hidden message and it is not reserved for just two exclusive individuals. It is a message that says 'I am not afraid to take up my space in this world. I am not afraid for you to see my soul, and I am not afraid of the parts of my own soul that I keep hidden. I am not afraid of the judgements you may make when I remove my armour. I believe and I trust and I know. I am whole and complete' .... I think it is much more than the heart-shaped box of chocolates.
I have almost diverted myself away from what I intended to write, but I suppose I had no real intention, other than to rebel against the guilt I might feel when approaching my computer for a non-'important' thing.
I could write about the soups and juices I've been making, or the research I am so excited about (hopefully) doing. I could write about last weekend when I was under the weather or the challenges I've been facing lately as a trainee therapist and how I am grateful beyond words for the friendships and support that I have around me. I could write about the weekend we spent away or the weekend before that. I could also write about the bag I have to pack for a stay in London tomorrow evening, or how proud I have been of my students who have done so well in their mock exams, I could then write about how I feel for them and all the pressure they are under and how I sometimes wish I could tell them all not to worry because they will find their place in this world and all this pressure they feel now is only temporary. Their world won't crumble if they fail. I could write about any number of things but I have surprised myself and written about what I think is love.