The Good Practice Of Self-Nourishment

I emerged from my solitary sanctuary this morning to sit amongst strangers and offer my support. Sitting around the table in a coffee shop room that had been transformed into a submarine, I listened to their vision for hosting community in order to harvest insights, perspectives, and wisdom from the collective in the hopes of creating a strategy to address the opioid crisis in the Alberni Valley.

They had put out a call for help to those who had received training in the Art of Hosting Courageous Community and I answered, despite being unsure if I have the functional capacity to do so. I think the fact that I'm unsure is indication enough that I'm not actually in the best health state to exert myself in this way right now. I'm fatigued, I'm slow, and the symptoms of CSS are creeping up on me faster than I'd like but...am I crazy for still wanting to do this?

Maybe the sacrifice to my health isn't worth it, but maybe it is. Maybe I need this just as much as they need help. Maybe I need a taste of community. Maybe I need to step into some social interaction to combat the loneliness and isolation. Maybe I need this dance with fear so that engaging in generous work will re-ignite some confidence and motivation in me. Maybe I need to serve, even if it's not exactly for the community I feel called most strongly to serve. It's still service; it's still supporting human beings who are suffering.

Towards the end of the meeting I could feel the tremors spreading across the internal landscape of my body, signalling that the limits of my functional capacity for being out in public, processing extra environmental stimuli, actively listening, trying to concentrate and process, and occassionally speaking had been surpassed.

When I stepped over the threshold into my silent home, the stillness enveloped me. As I made my breakfast at 1:45pm and cradled the hot bowl of oatmeal, peanut butter, hemp hearts, and shredded coconut flakes in one palm while walking to the sofa, it hit me: this was more than a bowl of oatmeal. This was me finally engaging and taking pleasure in the ritual of self-nourishment.

I had spent too much of my life neglecting self-care as I hurried from one activity to the next, from tackling one task after another. This was me showing myself that it is important to stop. It is important to take the time to be in the silence and pour back into myself after giving away my time and energy in the name of doing generous work that scares me.

There is nothing for me to feel guilty about in holding space for my weary body, wrapping it in the warmth of blankets, fuelling it with hot food and drink, and allowing myself to rest here in the blissful quiet until my body whispers, "Okay, I'm ready, let's go".