This is a blog post about self care and self love. But it is also a post about failure.
It is about how I neglected a duty to take care of myself, ended up with an infection, and the crucial message that came out of the illness.
I was in my late twenties when I first heard the term “self-care”. I was working with a life coach here in Santa Cruz, California, and she had a self-care chart for me to follow each day.
It seemed indulgent and laborious at first, though over the last decade, many of those items have become ingrained habits in my life.
Thus, I’ve always assumed that self care was about habit and effort.
And yet, when I woke up yesterday morning to intense pain yet again, there was mysterious message of truth in my mind. This message was as clear as black against white: and divinely delivered in my sleep.
The infection brews…
You see, about a month ago, my ear began to bother me. We were getting day after day of epic surf here in California, and the waves were soooo good, that I ignored it. And then a week ago, my right ear clogged up, became infected, and lost most of it’s hearing.
As the ear pain increased, I did the right-ish things: I bought some ear plugs, read up on home remedies, poured all kinds of things down my ear canal: rubbing alcohol, vinegar, hydrogen peroxide, warm olive oil steeped in garlic.
As the symptoms worsened, nothing seemed to help. I did just about everything I could…
… except of course, to go to the doctor.
Why I didn’t want to go
So…why didn’t I want to go to the doctor?
Because I didn’t want to pay for it.
You see, I’m in the States without health insurance. If you live in Australia, please let this be an opportunity for insane gratitude for our medical system, because here, it simply isn’t that simple. I was smart enough to get travel insurance before I left, however the policy’s excess (or deductible, as they call it here) is $250 AUD.
Ok, but was it really that bad?
Three nights ago, while everyone was singing happy birthday to my soul-nephew, I was hiding upstairs with a blanket wrapped around my head.
I could barely open and close my jaw, and any touch to my ear felt like being stabbed with a knife. If I blocked my right ear with my finger, the sound of the world was lost.
But did I need to go to the doctor? Hmm, maybe just one more day, I said. Let’s see how tonight goes. Let’s try one more remedy.
I was absolutely convinced that it was not worth the $250.
A temporary fix
I asked around for help and someone got me a bottle of black-market antibiotic ear drops from Mexico. For almost a full twenty four hours, it seemed I was getting better. I fantasised about having a real nights sleep lying flat in bed. Then two nights ago, I decided it was safe to lay down to sleep.
A sharp pain woke me up around 1am. My canal was once again full of pressure and the sound was gone. I longed for something or someone to suck my ear dry. I was furious. I got up, poured more drops down my ear, and built my bed back up with a beanbag and a bunch of pillows.
I slept in fits and starts, finally nodding off into a deep sleep late in the night. In the morning my head was heavy. I was angry and depressed. My back, hamstrings and neck ached from three nights in a row of sleeping upright.
I felt sorry for myself for what would probably be another miserable day laying around in bed. I closed my eyes, propped myself up a little higher and willed myself back to sleep.
A message from Bobo
When I woke again the house was quiet. And as if I had dreamed of it, there was a message awaiting me about (or from?) my sweet departed dog Bobo. It felt divine as he asked me, inside my own mind “Mama, if it had been me with an infected ear, what would you have done?”
I knew in an instant, I would’ve taken him to the vet. And even though I would’ve been upset about spending the extra money, it NEVER would’ve stopped me from getting him immediate treatment.
Why?
Because I would have never wanted him to suffer.
Because I loved him dearly, unconditionally.
Because within that love, I’d do whatever I could to make sure he had the best of everything. I wasn’t doing that for myself.
Why not? Was is that it wasn’t worth it, as I’d said above? Or was it that somehow, some way, I had decided that I wasn’t worth it?
Regaining my power
There was deep resolve in me. I was going to the doctor. F#ck the money.
In that moment of decision, I went from having a hopeless, depressed day to having a fully empowered experience. I was now woman who took care of her sh#t. I was now a woman who did what it took to create the best life possible, to give herself the best possible outcome, always.
I felt another resolve, deep within me. I want to love me like I loved my sweet Bobo. Not an egotistical, measured love, but one that is unconditional. He wasn’t perfect. He left hair all over my clothes and got into the trash sometimes. He barked at other dogs when we walked down the street. He pulled on the leash till the day he died.
And I always, always, loved him anyway.
I fed him the very best food, even though it was $100 a bag. I rearranged my life to take him on walks every day so that his body was healthy and strong. I didn’t feed him nasty table scraps or let him be naughty. I gave him all of my attention, my energy and my effort.
Simply because I truly, deeply loved him.
The realisation
When we love someone in this kind of unconditional and devoted way, we make sure they have the best life. We do anything for them. We stand up for them, fight for them, and give the absolute best care we can.
So let me ask you, do you love yourself like that?
Because if so, you would never have to fight to make self-care a priority again. Self care is not about habit. It’s about love.
Self care is not about habit. It’s about LOVE.
Your love for YOU
So let’s tease it out together. What ways do you struggle to take care of yourself?
- Do you eat food you know is harming your body?
- Do you smoke? Drink excessively? Take a little too many drugs?
- Do you struggle to exercise? Or make time to meditate?
- Do you want to go to yoga but can’t seem to commit?
These are NOT signs that you are lazy, or hopeless or a terrible person. They are simply a reflection of how deeply and how completely you love, value and respect YOU.
If you can find a way to accept all of who you are; even the hairy, trash destroying, and leash pulling parts, then all the rest will fall into place too.
Wherever you are in the world,
I hope you’re in love (with you),
Love,
Kate
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