(not necessarily in that order)
And if I want to help myself heal, I need to love me without an agenda.
In other words, without treating “loving myself” as a way to lose weight or attract abundance or accomplish any other specific goal.
I want to learn to love myself well just for the sake of loving. And that applies to loving others well also.
Yesterday’s blog ended with the statement that “It’s about making the inner switch from self-condemnation to compassionate self-love.”
So, today I want to share something related to the power of unconditional love.
Way back at the end of the 1980’s, I was an active member of a Unity church in San Francisco. A songwriter named Greg Tamblyn frequently performed there and I purchased several of his recordings.
Although he specialized in spiritual humor, he also had a talent for addressing deep issues and profound emotion through his songs. One in particular touched me deeply. It told the story of a woman named Evy who healed herself of an illness through learning to love herself unconditionally.
Fast forward to just a few years ago. Somewhere along the line I ended up on the mailing list for Greg’s email newsletter and for some reason found myself remembering that song and wanting to know more about it.
Going to Greg’s website, I listened to the song again and found it just as powerful as when I first heard it over thirty years ago. I also found a blog post Greg had written about it and was blown away.
I invite you to listen to the song (below) and read Evy’s story (by clicking here (Greg’s blog post) or here or here (written by Evy herself).
More and more I’m understanding that LOVE truly IS all we need.
I experienced a big “aha” moment recently.
It happened when I ended the nourishing cleanse and immediately started “treating” myself to the foods that made me feel “special” and “loved.”
In a moment of insight I realized just how food and love and treats are inextricably mixed up in my psyche.
So, when I’m eating super healthy and taking care of myself, a part of me does not interpret that as loving, but as self-deprivation. And when I stop the healthy stuff and indulge in “treats,” that part of me feels loved once again.
And all the while there’s an inner voice criticizing what I choose to eat, how I look, how much I exercise, blah, blah, blah! Which then makes me want to treat myself with another goodie.
Needless to say, there’s a whole lot to process around this and I’ve only just begun. But I am finally beginning to understand that it’s not what I do out there that’s going to make the ultimate difference. It’s making the inner switch from self-condemnation to compassionate self-love.
This is my version of gone fishin’ — meaning that I consciously opted to sit and finish a less than worthy novel rather than write a thoughtful blog post.
It doesn’t happen often, but today was a “don’t really feel like writing” kind of day.
Oh well.
Sometimes it feels like I’m getting stirred up with a big cosmic spoon, at the same time as the heat beneath my pot gets gradually turned up from simmer to boil.
And in the midst of this inner upheaval, I somehow need to sort through where I’m at; where I’ve been; and where I’m going.
Is that all?!?
At least, I’m hoping the time has finally come!
I’d really, really like for me and my body to know that we’re on the same team.
On the same side.
Best friends, even.
This is the quote I was trying to find yesterday.
Loving what IS seems to be the current theme for my life.
I thought I knew what to write today but can’t find the item that originally inspired what I wanted to say.
But since I’ve spent all my available time searching for it, this is all that’s left for me to say!
Yesterday I happened upon an article in the San Francisco Chronicle marking the 44th anniversary of the assassinations of San Francisco Mayor George Moscone and city supervisor Harvey Milk, who were shot and killed in City Hall by former Supervisor Dan White.
On November 27, 1978, I was a twenty-two year old college student living in San Francisco while majoring in music at SF State University.
I’ll never forget listening to the radio as I parked my car in front of my apartment in Park Merced and hearing Dianne Feinstein (President of the Board of Supervisors) announce that the Mayor and Harvey Milk had been murdered, followed by gasps and cries from the assembled reporters.
The shock was intense and visceral, compounded by the fact that it came only ten days after the Jonestown massacre — when more than 900 people, mostly San Franciscans, died at a compound in Jonestown, Guyana, when ordered by cult leader Jim Jones to drink poison. A squad of People’s Temple members was also sent to shoot an investigative delegation led by Rep. Leo Ryan, D-San Mateo, as it prepared to fly home from a nearby airstrip. Ryan and four others died on the airstrip, and 10 others were wounded.
I remember feeling as though the world had turned completely upside down. These things simply didn’t happen in a sane world. Or so I thought.
A certain innocence was lost that November in San Francisco.
We’ve gotten a good start on our Christmas rituals.
The tree and nativity are up. And today we got our coffee in Starbucks Christmas cups. 😄🎄
