Get ready, people. Tonight has given birth to The Self Love Endurance Academy.
The last few weeks have been a doozy. There was a false start to a beautiful relationship (now entirely defunct, as in, no, I don’t want you to email/call me ever again), coupled with battling the demons of insecurity screaming I-don’t fit-in-with-anyone-and-btw-have-I-ever?
I felt like I was about to lose my mind so I took myself on a solo trip across this big island. I spent three consecutive days submerged in the salty beating/bath of the Pacific Ocean, asking for some divine and powerful help. I took note of the fact that on every single day of that watery journey, a sea turtle came to visit me, and I’ve since looked up the meaning of sea turtle as a spirit guide…wowza. That feels special.
And in those aching appeals, I knew that I most needed to remember was that I mattered to the universe, and part of that was remembering that I matter to myself. I asked and I asked and I asked for a sign, some proof that my calls would not go unanswered… that I wouldn’t have to face this healing alone…some validation that someone was listening on the other end of the line.
And when I looked at the sand directly under my hand in the shallow ocean bay that I was floating in, I saw this perfectly heart-shaped stone/coral right under my hand. “Self-Love,” it whispered. “All you need is (self)love. And it’s right underneath your fingertips.”
It seems that the way out of the darkness is always lit by the light of self-love.
Salty tears mixing with the salty ocean, I accepted the invitation. Exuberantly. Anxiously. Willingly.
I’ve never been the kind of person prone to self-loathing or anything, generally thinking “yeah, I’m a pretty awesome person,” but this is different. This is a step up to never saying “OMG, I’m really fucked up” when I fuck something up. Not feeling permanently broken when my communication skills fail me in one particular conversation. Not feeding the Beast of Unworthiness when someone else fails to see how magnificently worthy I really am.
Over the last three decades, I’ve been a spotty self-lover. The good juju has been there exuberantly on good days, …and a bit harder to locate on days that bring tears and sad songs — y’know, the days that need a hearty mugful of self-love THE MOST.
The Self Love Endurance Academy is a reminder that just because we mess things up, it doesn’t mean that we are messed-up people. This is a reminder that we’re to speak to ourselves in the same words that we would want someone to speak to us with,…like, when we were 5 years old. Gently, lovingly, compassionately, and with loving as the main motive for any redirection, correction or change.
It’s a reminder that practicing self-love can sometimes feel like an endurance marathon training session, and that’s ok, because this kind of love, baby, is for the long haul. So, yes, it needs endurance training.
LOVE OF SELF 101.
If there was ever any subject worth committing oneself to studying, practicing and mastering, it’s Self-Love. And I am enrolling in that ish tonight.
There’s plenty of room for new students. The classroom is everywhere we are. The required reading is right there, alive and pumping inside your chest. The tests will come, and they will always be pop-quizzes, so you better practice so that you’re not knocked you on your ass when those icky surprises come. Class is starting and there’s an open seat right next to me….want me to save it for you?