Being my own lover

This week seemed particularly challenging. I seemed to be on the wrong side with a number of people and that always challenges me. I want to be seen. I want to be acknowledged. I want to be loved. I don't think I am any different than those I seem to disagree or disappoint.

This morning as I practiced, I realized, what I needed was compassion for myself. If I could not give it to me, why would anyone else think to. I was a doing machine this week, doing all the things I was responsible to do. Go to work, dot the i's and cross the t's. I was not allowing myself to be a being who was moving through grief from a personal loss. Today as I luxuriate in the freedom of not doing, there is space to realize I need to offer myself compassion, and it doesn't help coming from anyone else. I am the only one who can truly know how I feel and what it means to me and how to continue to move forward without my friend. And really, I am the only one I can trust to not leave me. Eventually everyone else will or I will leave them.

I can offer myself kindness, love and nourishment from the place of a full cup, I then can offer it to others, even if it won't help them as much as any love and compassion they offer themselves. After all, we are all just small blades of grass struggling to survive in rocky terrain.

This is the foundation of freedom. This is seed of fulfillment. This is fully being.