Who do you love?

First responders - there can be no denying how much they have sacrificed, this year especially. How many of them could have anticipated this kind of need?

When they get the call to drive the ambulance, or suit up and tend to a contagious Covid patient, or protect our capital, or ring up our groceries, they respond. Unless they have overlooked themselves and are no longer able. 

They are not the only ones. 

The Mothers. I have several clients who are moms, having to oversee their kids as they try to maneuver this strange new phenomenon called school on a screen, at home. I did a type of home schooling with my sons. It was far less stressful than this (unschooling) and I didn’t have another job. These moms are lovingly responding to their kids’ needs. They are able to respond. Until they are not.

We are all respons(a)ble, when it is about our job, or our children, or our neighbors. But how often are we responsible to ourselves?

We can’t take care of anyone else if we are running on empty. We can’t serve, or love, or be there for what is unexpectedly needed in the moment, if we refuse to respond to our own inner cry for help. 

I am asking all who are reading this today to take stock. 

How are you, really? 

Are you feeding yourself well?
Are you taking long breaks in hot baths? 
Are you walking and/or doing yoga?
Are you dancing like crazy to your favorite songs?
Are you breathing? Regularly?
Are you asking for help? Watching and reading things that make you laugh?

When was the last time that you made yourself a meal, or a tea, 

and then simply, quietly (without a screen at hand) savored it? 

Because if you don’t fill your own cup, then you may not have anything left to offer. The next time you are asked to listen to a desperately needy child, mate, parent or stranger, your ears may be turned off, your spirit spent. When I get this way, it feels like the stuffing has been pulled out of me, that I am nothing but a worn-out piece of grey fabric (that was once the sweet stuffed lamb of my childhood, ruined by too many trips to the washing machine. I digress.) Truly though, I feel without substance. 

Have you ever noticed how it sometimes takes getting sick or having an accident to wake up to our own needs? And that wake-up call can feel (or actually, dangerously become) interminable?

I feel the collective exhaustion. 

This is my love letter to you. I appreciate how well you are responding. 

I ask that you take more pauses. Breathe and chew more slowly. 

Take more time to do whatever most turns you on (or helps you sleep!)

Love yourself as well as you love everyone else. 

Much Love from me, 

Madeline