Let’s glaze right over the fact I haven’t blogged in a trillion years (approximation), and jump into where I’m at and what I’m up to…
I’m alright. I’m hanging in there. But if I’m honest, I’m not being very kind to myself. I’m stressing myself out about work. I’m creating silly personal drama for myself where none existed. I’m not getting into down dog often enough. I both metaphorically and literally can’t find my yoga mat (I live in 620 sq feet, it can’t have gone far?). But worst of all… I’m totally beating myself up about all this. Hard.
More than one friend has told me to be kinder to myself lately. I have fantastic friends. They are the best people of all people, in the history of people. I think it’s interesting that my friends haven’t told me to get it together, or get to yoga, or to rethink that second glass of bourbon, or stop being my own worst enemy… They aren’t pushing me to be better, they just want me to give myself a break. They know I can do better, that this weird little pattern is an anomaly, and I haven’t been in this headspace since I was 25 or so. They know I’ll snap out of it. I already have snapped out of the destructive behavior, for the most part. Now it’s just time to shower off the self loathing and cut myself some slack.
I think a key part of being kinder to myself is to actually make myself dinner from time to time. Not a fancy one. Not an indulgent one, or an overly monastic one for that matter. Just a reasonable, simple, kind dinner. Eating cereal out of a coffee mug with expired almond milk on the sofa is ok – it’s better than eating out. Eating prosciutto, goat cheese and crackers standing up at the sink will do – but let’s be real, charcuterie does not a meal make. I whine a lot about how I struggle to cook for one. That I’m kind of wired to cook for a crowd and so I usually just don’t cook at all for my party of me. Whatever. I need to get past that. I love cooking too much to bench myself because I don’t want to be saddled with leftovers (surely my coworkers or friends will enjoy it), or to take the easy way out because I don’t want to do the dishes later (my wee kitchen takes virtually no time to clean).
I should be making things like the bowl of brown rice with a fried egg pictured above. That dish took very minimal effort. It’s not even a “dish,” it’s just a bowl of yum. Serious yum. I cooked the brown rice with the zest of a lemon, some butter, kosher salt and red pepper flake. I topped it with a fried egg, some soy sauce and some fresh cut chives. It was heaven. I can do this. I should do this, on the regular.
I’m working on it.
In the immortal words of Dr. Leo Marvin… “Baby Steps”