If you’d asked me three weeks ago if I knew what it meant to be kind to myself, I would have answered yes. I also would have been wrong. It has come to my attention that my mastery of self-kindness is still very much a work in progress.
I’ve been fighting off a cold for almost two weeks now. At first, it was actually kind of fun. I have been busier than I like, so it felt really good to spend a few days watching Netflix and reading trashy novels, and I was actually quite grateful for the break.
But the cold did not go away after just a couple of days. Instead, it settled into an unremitting grogginess, combined with mild congestion and a cough. Nothing life threatening, but enough to make it hard to get back into the swing of my routine, especially when that state did not go away quickly, either.
After a week of having a cold, I got angry. I have important things to get done, and I did not have time to deal with a stupid little cold anymore! So I decided to ignore it and power through. That’s what adults do, right? They stop wallowing, they take control of the situation, and they force themselves to be productive!
That worked out really well, let me tell you.
Having seen that brute force was not going to work, I relented. Sort of. For the last two days I’ve been telling myself that I’m going to take it easy, while simultaneously spending the whole day berating myself for not being more productive. Strange to say, spending the day calling myself lazy does not make for a relaxing and restorative time! But I think I’ve got it now. I know that I have things I would really like to get done, but I’m going to give it (and myself) a rest. Because nothing will catch fire if I wait another day to do anything on that list. I’m not doing anything else today unless I really, truly want to.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some trashy TV to watch.