Tag: love

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Struggles With Inertia – 500/1

I’m a little late to this round of 500 words a day for 30 days. I want to lie and say I’ve been writing, that I’ve been keeping up and I just haven’t been posting. And while I did write once in my journal (it may even have been 500 words) I certainly haven’t been “keeping up.” My writing has been waning for a while now, both personally and what I post. I’ve been having a block and that block is starting my new website. I have tons of things I want to add to it, but I just keep on piling up ideas and never fleshing them out, and certainly not starting the website. At least I bought the domain and month ago or so, so that’s started. RevelLivingTherapy.com coming soon.

I try not to get down on myself, but that’s part of the problem. Years ago I would get down on myself so much I hated myself. I thought about killing myself most days for 15 years. I’m way past that now, but one way I did was to give myself a “break” and trying to “accept myself as I am.” These are good and worthy things. The issues comes when that is the default. See, I’ve allowed myself to become lazy. Shoot, who am I kidding, I’ve always been lazy. I guess that’s one of the things I need to accept about myself. So knowing that, what do I do?

Put a schedule, of sorts in place. Focus on what I want and where I want to be, on what I love. Focus on being loving to myself. That last part was huge for me in learning to get over self hate. The question I started asking myself was, “Is this loving to myself”? That really helped whenever that internal struggle to do something unhealthy came up. And so now I’ll use it to add healthy behaviors into my life, rather than just remove unhealthy ones. So I guess this is my commitment 500 Words a day for the next 30 days.

I’m going to add to that 30 days of working out. As I said, I’ve gotten lazy, and my body doesn’t like it. I woke up at 5:15 am this morning. In pain. There’s always some level of pain in my body these days. I have back issues from hyperlordosis and neck issues from a flattened out cervical spine. Then there’s my right shoulder pain from swimming and wrist pain from lack of flexibility. I also have a heel spur on my right foot, knee pain in my left knee and, my most recent acquisition, right hip pain from a partial dislocation. These are all issue stemming from not caring for myself. And it’s not that I don’t exercise, although I don’t do it as often as I used to. I believe most of it is from not warming up properly and not doing enough to balance out my body when the activities I do tend to focus on one side of the muscle groups (hello, acroyoga).

So here I am, recommitting. The 500 words a day is a good reminder to me to get out and do something. It’s 6:30 this morning and I’ve already done a quick stretch and written this. Here’s to a productive rest of the day, too.

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Loving Yourself

I received a writing prompt to write about a time you loved yourself. I like the prompt, but I’m going to change it into “when I began to love myself.” I think that when you learn to love yourself only one thing really changes… everything. Loving yourself is not some great big event, but a series of small events, little moments in time, in which you choose loving things for yourself.

My moments started with food. I’ve had a long history of food issues. When I was 15, I was diagnosed and treated for anorexia. It went along with my depression. Everything seemed so out of control, but there was one thing that I could control and that was when and how much I ate. And I often chose not to eat. I also had body dysmorphia, meaning that no matter how much, or how little, I weighed I thought I was overweight. After a while, I got over not eating and proceeded to go the other way. I started to eat too much and began to gain weight. For the next 20 years my weight would fluctuate 25 lbs or so in either direction.

Then, one day, as I drove past the same fast food restaurant for the third time, arguing with myself whether or not I should buy the double burger and fries, I thought “What is the most loving thing I could do for myself?” I realized at that point that buying fast food wasn’t being loving to my body…and more importantly, I realized I wanted to be loving to myself.

I know that it seems like a simple thing and, in a way, it is. But there are other things that went through my mind that day, and subsequent days when I made the same decision to love myself. One is realizing why I wanted the fast food. That day I was stressed, not hungry. I had learned to eat to cover stress because it made me forget about the stress, at least for a little while. I also knew I had other, healthier food choices that I could make. That day I chose to go to a vegan restaurant instead. Yes, I still ate my feelings, but it was arguably less harmful to my body. The important thing was that I came away feeling better about myself and my choice. I didn’t add any shame to my life because of my choices. And, to put it bluntly, the shame cycle is a bitch. You get stressed, you eat poorly to feel better. It works while you’re eating, but then you feel shame for what or how much you just ate. That shame adds more stress and you want to eat again. The trick to get out of that cycle is to remember you are not a bad person, even if you didn’t make the best choice. Perhaps another blog about that later.

So, loving yourself isn’t about making big changes. It’s about making small choices on a daily basis that make you feel better about yourself. A lot of mindfulness is required and, that alone, can take time to develop, but it’s worth it. Just remember, the next time you’re making a decision, ask yourself, “what is the most loving choice I can make for myself,” and make that one. Good luck : )

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A New Pilgrimage

A few months ago I watched a movie called The Way. The movie is about a man who’s son was killed just as he was beginning a pilgrimage in France called “el Camino de Santiago,” or the Way of St James. While he is picking up his son’s ashes, something comes over him and he decides to take the pilgrimage himself and to bring his son’s ashes with him. While on this journey, he decides to scatter his son’s ashes at different spots. He meets new people, some of which join him on his journey, others merely flit in and then out again, like shooting stars in the night sky. It’s a great movie and I found it truly inspiring for a variety of reasons.

One reason is that I feel as though I’ve always been on a pilgrimage of some sort or an other. I’ve always been a thinker of things, looking for something, trying to explain life. Or at least my life. I realize that what I’m looking for is internal, though I’ve certainly looked for it in external things. Alcohol, drugs, music, sex, you name it, I’ve pretty much tried it. But aren’t we all looking for something? Could be. Sometimes it seems to me like a lot of people aren’t looking for anything. Or perhaps they have already found it. Or maybe they’ve given up. I feel like I’ve always had questions about life, that I wanted to know more. But I’ve limited myself. I decided earlier this year that I wanted to travel more and that I’d start this year. It’s important to me, important to my life that it happens. I realize that I’m at a crossroads in my life and I find it funny because, even though I’m at a crossroads, it feels like there is really only one path for me to take, the one that leads to growth and change. So far this year I’ve already taken two trips to San Diego, which were great, but I lived there for so long it’s like going home, it’s not the same. I also took a trip to Florida to visit my parents. Once again, great, but not new.

I’ll admit it. I want to travel to places to which I’ve already been. Some of them are places that I went when I was a child and I want to see them with adult eyes, and maybe introduce my son to them as well. There’s some nostalgia there, but for some reason I feel like going to an old place first will help jump start me to visiting new places. And I want to see new places in the world, and, even more important, I want my son to see them. I want him to know that there is more to life than what’s in the U.S. I want him to know there is a great big world out there and, really, our job is to try and make that world a better place. I have fears and I have dreams. I have spent a lot of my life ruled by my fears and it’s gotten me to where I am. It’s not a bad place, it’s been a struggle at times. There have been good times, some not so good. I’ve grown and changed. Haven’t we all? But I still feel like there is more to this world and I want to see it. I want to show that world to my son. But in order to do that, I need to be able to see it myself. And to truly do that, I need to grow.

One of the things I found so amazing about The Way is that I had never heard of Camino de Santiago. I had heard about the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and many smaller trails throughout America, but not about the Camino de Santiago. It made me realize how little of this world I really know. After all these years, I have finally just began to see how sheltered I’ve been. I’m a middle-age, middle-class, white male who lives in America. I am the epitome of privilege. I’ve spent part of my life being ashamed of that reality and part of my life accepting it. I can’t change what I am, but I can try and change how I see things. I can try and see things from other people’s perspectives, to understand their perspective. I see travel as one way to help me do that…while also accepting the very real fact that being able to travel itself is a privilege. Down the rabbit hole we go… I guess what I’m really getting at is that the best way I know how to change the world is to try and be a better person and to try to raise my son to be a better person as well. I know that there are many ways to do that, that travel is just one of them, but it’s a journey I plan to begin.

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Coming Apart at the Seams

There are days, days like today, where some moments I feel like the Grinch whose, “small heart grew three sizes that day.” Then a whipsaw runs through my heart and tears it into pieces… which once again grow. As those pieces grow, I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams and I don’t know how I can possibly contain both the love and heartache that I feel. I want to somehow hold onto my Self, to be sheltered and safe. But I refuse to hold back my own growth. I want to be a better man, for me, for my son, but also because I am in love. I haven’t told her yet, I hesitated. I’m afraid. While I understand that fear can rip things apart, it’s tough to get those old wounds out of the way. I wish I could go back in time and meet this woman as the fresh-faced young man I was. I can’t, and that’s ok. Who I am now is a summary of those experiences. It’s made me who and what I am, hurts, joys, warts and all. So I hesitated, the moment was lost. Now I wait for the “right” time. When is that? Who the fuck knows? I don’t want it to be cheap and I don’t want it to be forced. That last one should be easy, there are so moments during a conversation with her that I feel love. She’s beautiful, inside and out. I know she’s not perfect, and she’s made it clear she’s difficult. Fact is, I haven’t really seen that side of her yet. I’m sure it’s true, shit who isn’t difficult from time to time? But the truth is, it’s been easy. At least easy with her.

I find I have to remind myself to get out of the way, to let it be easy and don’t complicate things. To know when I need to speak my truth, yet be aware when silence is best. Why is that so hard? As I’ve gotten older I’ve found it easier to find that line and I’m grateful to be able to see that growth in me. In the past, I’ve more often been in trouble for the things I don’t say, than the things I do say. That sometimes feels like a character flaw, but is it? Or is it simply my nature, to be more reserved? Let’s call it two sides of the same coin. That I’m naturally more reserved, but can quickly move into being shut down. My own version of “out of control” looks very controlled. It has taken me a lot to get to the point where I don’t shut down when things get tough/stressful in a relationship. I think that shutting down may be part of being an introvert. I need time to process and work things through on my own, without being bothered. I feel like the need I have to process things is accepted in this relationship, instead of just tolerated. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s a big one. Which is another reason for the love I feel.

The other side of what I currently feel comes from having made the decision to find my dog a new home. It feels horrible, like I’ve failed him, like I’m a failure. Part of the feeling comes from a belief I held that there was no good reason to give an animal up, that once you welcomed them into your home they were your responsibility, your family. I guess the truth is I’ve judged people  who gave up their animals. And once I found myself in the position where I had to make the choice to find a new home for my dog, I began to judge myself. I still do think there are good reasons and bad reasons to give up an animal, but the truth is, you can’t judge a decision until you’ve been in the situation yourself. And never say never. Never is an absolute, like always. It’s funny that I see couples talk that way to each other, usually in frustration, “You never take out the trash,” or “You always nag me.” Those examples of not using never and always I can see, I can understand. It would appear there are other areas in life where you shouldn’t use never or always. At least, that’s what I’m learning.

While I don’t like to admit it, there is a part of me that has judged others. The funny thing about judgment is that if you judge others, you most likely also judge yourself. We are our own worst critics, right? But that’s a hard way to live, believe me. I’ve had a lot of practice in not judging, and I’ve gotten a lot better over the years. It’s hard not to judge. We see other people who are better looking, have better grades in school, make more money or have the “perfect” family. So we compare, and sometimes we judge. There is a difference, you know. You’re comparing if you can sit back and not be emotionally involved. It’s simply looking at facts. But when you tie emotion or worth to that comparison, it becomes judgment.

I’m not sure where judgment comes from, whether it’s inherent within us, part of our culture, or simply handed down from our parents. I do know that I see it a lot. I see it in our tabloids, I see it in our cultural race and gender arguments. I see it when someone types FOMO (fear of missing out). I don’t like it when I see it in myself, but I’ve always judged myself pretty harshly : ) What I do know is that I can work to make the world a better place simply by not judging myself. If I can accept myself as I am, I’ll be better able to accept others as they are.

When I started writing this, I’ll be honest and say I had no idea where it was going to go. I just knew I had these emotions within me, that I had something to say. It’s amazing to me how somethings come together, for it seems to me that with less judgment, there is room for more peace and love in my life. I’ll take it.

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Coming Alive

image imageI’m leaning against the windows in terminal C at the Phoenix airport. The morning sun is pouring in and I can feel it’s warmth against my skin. It’s a little too warm, I begin to sweat. I don’t care. After a cold Chicago winter I feel like I need the sun. I feel it push past the physical boundaries of my body. That spark within me, the one that has been dimmed for far too long, begins to flare up. My soul begins to come alive.

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First School Play

My son’s first play turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. As a matter of fact, I didn’t expect it to be hard at all, but it was emotional. To be there, so close, but still separated. My ex doesn’t want me around, she barely speaks to me unless necessary. So I’m sitting two rows back from my son as he plays with my ex, her mom, her brother and some other of her friends before the show. I’m alone and it’s painful to be near him, but not actually with him. But I’m here and willing to go through that pain because it’s not about me, it’s about him. My wonderful son. He’s awesome and adorable. I guess like anyone would describe their kids, but he’s mine so he’s special to me. I sit here with tears in my eyes. I can finally see why some divorced men would avoid this, it feels like failure. Like I’m failing to raise my son. I’m trying, but right now, in this moment, this is as far as I can get. I suppose I could force myself into the situation, but is it worth the hell I’ll get from my ex? I don’t know, because it will be hell. So I endure. I feel like there’s a bubble in my chest that’s about to burst, and if it does, the tears will flow. So I hold it together.

I watch my son jump into his mom’s lap and she gives him a raspberry on his cheek. He loves her and I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to take that relationship away from him, it’s important. At the same time I feel like part of that is being taken away from me.

Pain turns to anger. I feel like I’m being pushed to the sidelines of my son’s life. Is this what it’s going to be like as my son grows up? Always watching from the outside because his mom doesn’t want me near? I breathe through the anger. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m there for him when he needs me. I’m here, I’ve let him know. His need of emotional support is more important than my desire to not feel emotional pain. I’ve learned how to manage my emotions as an adult. Now is the time to help him, to be there for him. To the best of my ability I will ALWAYS be there for him. I can’t hold onto the anger. I won’t. It’s toxic. I have more important things/places to put my energy. Holding onto anger is toxic for me and I won’t live there. I will choose love. I will love my son, I will love my friends and family. To the best of my ability, I will even try to love my ex. That’s a tough one, but I’ll try. I’ll try because it’s not about me, it’s about a small child I chose to help bring into this world. My child. My son. I’ll do it because he’s worth it, and love is the answer.

My son’s part of the play ends. I’m so proud of him. He was singing so loud I could hear him over the other kids. I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not, but I’m proud of him all the same. I watch as my son runs back to his mom and gives her a hug. Then something amazing happens.

My son looks to the back and says, “Daddy? Dad? Where’s my dad?” I raise my voice over the crowd and say, “Right here, buddy!” He sees me and his face lights up. He runs the two rows back and gives me a big hug. I hug back and tell him he did a great job, that he should be proud of himself. He jumps into my lap, his back snuggled against my chest. I wrap my arms around him, letting my cheek rest softly against the top of his head and we watch some more of the play. This is why I come and sit through my own discomfort. If I weren’t able to shift through my own emotions, to deal with them in a healthy manner, I would have missed out on this moment.

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Fall Love

There is something magical about fall. I know it, I feel it. But what is it? It feels like a time for renewal and growth, but everything around is dying. It’s a beautiful time of year, the trees are wreathed in flame; oranges, yellows and reds. As I think about this, I’m walking through a park. The grass is still green, there are leaves crunching under foot. I find a spot on a bench that’s bathed in sunlight. I can feel it warm me as the crisp, cool breeze caresses my skin, and I ask myself again, why is fall so special? Is it simply that school starts in the fall, and the excitement of a new school year has stuck with me? That could be, since I loved school, especially when I was a little kid. Is it the last hurrah before winter sets in and you know you’ll be stuck inside for the next few months? Or because it’s the time of year when I can wear either jeans or shorts, and I love that possibility. And sweatshirts and hoodies are awesome.

Spring is supposed to be the Earth’s natural marker for renewal and hope, and yet I have that feeling during the fall. My temperament can be on the depressive side, so maybe that’s why, because the reminder of death makes me feel alive. Or is it Halloween? It has always been my favorite holiday. So much fun can be had pretending you are someone else. Too many people forget to pretend when they “grow up” and they miss out on the magic of play.

And the smells of fall!! How to describe it? It’s mostly dead leaves, decaying on the ground, why would that smell amazing? Earthy and woody at the same time. It’s a time to smell the smoke from bonfires in the neighborhood. To warm your hands around a mug of hot apple cider or mulled wine and let the scent of cinnamon and other spices tickle your nose.

I’m an analyzer, it’s what I do. I like to think about things and wonder “why.” It’s part of who I am. And while all these things are fun to think about, what matters is that I take the time to enjoy them. To sit down in a patch of sunlight, listen to the leaves rustle at my feet while the scents of fall play on the breeze around me. It’s important to be present in life, to take time to enjoy it. So the “why” isn’t always important. Sometimes you have to “be” and enjoy that which you love.

That and get scared out of your mind when a squirrel runs between your feet from under the bench you’re sitting on because you’ve been still so long he thinks you’re just part of the scenery. True story.

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Little Moments – 500 Words a Day – Day 26

My son tagged me in the nuts with a boomerang today. Now that I have your attention, I really have nothing else to say. Well, that’s not really true. I’ve been thinking about how much our life is made up of these little moments. We do remember the big things, like graduation, marriage, deaths, births and all that other crap. But really, what is life made of? It’s the small moments in between that are the bulk of our lives, and those are the ones that really matter. At least in my mind. Will my son remember if I’m at his kindergarten graduation? Maybe, maybe not. High school graduation? Much more likely. But is that as important as today, the day he tagged my in the nuts? In a way “yes” and in a way “no.” He may not remember today, since it will blend in with all the rest of the days and, quite frankly, it wasn’t caught on camera. I mean, if it had been, Americas Funniest Videos here we come. But it wasn’t, and I still feel like it was a great day. Funny isn’t it? In Jr High or High School I definitely would not have considered a day that I was tagged in the nuts as being one of the best days. But as an adult, with a son, it was good. I’ll also let you know that it wasn’t that bad of a tag, just good enough to get a laugh. You know what I mean, at least you guys do. I’m not sure if that’s something that a woman can really understand. I sometimes have trouble thinking about the time I get to spend with my son. I calculated it once and realized I get about 15% of time with my son, which means that when I am with him, it’s precious time spent. I’ve already turned down jobs that I could take because they wanted me to work on Sundays, meaning I’d get to spend less time with him. I’m not OK with that. Not too sure where this is going, but I do know that I treasure all the time I get with my son. Sometimes I feel more connected, sometimes less. Sometimes we do more stuff outside,  and sometimes we just hang around inside playing video games. In the end I know it’s really about spending time with him, and not just bull shit time. Back to little moments. How do you carve out little moments to spend with the people you love? Life can move by so fast that it can be hard to do so. Or you can mix up doing things together with actually spending quality time together. I remember a long time ago how a therapist pointed out that going to the gym with my significant other wasn’t necessarily spending quality time. In this case it was really more about checking stuff off our to do list. That’s not quality time and doesn’t add to the relationship. Then again, it’s really about the intent behind it. That’s what it boils down to. What is your intent in life?

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My Life – 500 Words a Day – Day 7

There is so much that I thought about writing today. I came up with about 5 topics throughout the day, and it’s kinda hard to chose one, but I think I’ll go with…armageddon. Saw that one coming, didn’t ya??

For the longest time I’ve thought that nuclear war, or some other type of global disaster, would in some ways, be a great thing. I think that’s why I am so interested in post-apocalyptic books, movies and TV shows. Books and movies like Hunger Games and Divergent completely fascinate me. It’s the idea of living on your own, living off the land and being challenged in a way that is completely foreign to me.

Of course, in these day dreams I’m a total bad ass. I’m one of the survivors of the zombie apocalypse. Just me and my dog walking through the forest, looking for other survivors. Killing those who want to take what’s mine and saving those who need it. I’d have a gun, maybe two, and a sword. Definitely a sword.

Honestly, I think these day dreams appeal to both my romantic side and my introverted side. The romantic side sees it as time to spend with people, to find and care for those I love. The introvert side sees it as time away from large groups of people, to get back to nature and get in touch with it. It’s the side of me that wants to hike the Appalachian Trail. The side that admires my friend, Adrian, who is currently riding his bike across the country. For anyone interested, here’s his blog, it’s worth a read.

But what is it really that appeals to me?  There may be a little escapism going on, I’ll admit that. But I do really want to get away from a lot of the crap our society puts out there. I long to grow my own healthy, organic, non-GMO food. To collect rain water and reduce my carbon foot print. To live simply and to live with the natural rhythms of the world. I don’t really want to get away from people, but I do want to gather a small group of like minded people around me. Those who are interested in bettering themselves and the world. To make it a better and more beautiful place to live.

I’ve always been a hippie at heart. I want to walk in the woods and climb a tree. I want to walk barefoot through the grass and dirt, let the rain fall on me and dance, just out of pure joy. I believe in peace and love, and I’d like to see more of it in our world.

Over the past few years I’ve been developing a vision for my life, and it’s been growing. I love the idea of city living, but I also realize I need to get away from it all, and on a regular basis. I’m still working out how it can be done and what it will look like. Truthfully, it gets added to fairly often. But I do know I’m on the path to something that will be great. And I’m fairly certain it won’t be armageddon.

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Dream Come True

I started a new job this week…as a therapist. It all seems so crazy to me, but in a good way. I’ve told a few people the complete story of how I got to this point, but here’s some of it.

I am currently 42 years old and my journey to becoming a therapist started back when I was 15 and a Sophomore in high school. At that time I was hospitalized for major depression and spent three months in a locked ward. Thinking back, I really appreciate the support I received from my parents. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, they really were there for me. They did their best to deal with a child they loved, who was highly suicidal. As a parent myself, I can’t even imagine what they must have gone through, what they thought, what they felt. It must have been scary as hell.

Along with my parents support, I was seeing a counselor. His name was Mike and I saw him from the time I was 15 until I was 18 or so. He accepted me for who I was, he challenged my ideas/beliefs without trying to “change” me. He is one of the major reasons why I am alive today. And because of his example, of how he influenced my life, I decided at the age of 16 that I also wanted to become a counselor. To be able to give back a little, follow in his footsteps and maybe, just maybe, help some other kids who are going through a tough time in life.

Flash forward 27 years. It’s been a long journey, but I’m here, I’m standing in my office (I have an office!). It’s almost shocking. And it seems so fragile. Like it’s gong to be taken away at any minute. I realize that I’ve been waiting for the past year or so for things to fall through. For the world to go, “Haha, that’s gonna to happen.” It started with graduating with my Masters degree. I really didn’t think I’d make it through that final year. Working full-time, school part-time, doing my practicum (another 10-15 hours per week), trying to write my Senior Paper (thesis), going through a divorce, being separated from my son, trying to get another relationship going (which was a both a source of great support and stress). It all seemed too much. But I went ahead anyway and held my breath until I was holding my diploma in my hand. I did it!

Then came the job search. Eight months of searching and only one call back. That was rough. But I firmly believe that things happen when they are supposed to, how they are supposed to. Not that we don’t have to do the work, but I simply believe that the world conspires to work for us, if we let it. I’ve just seen too many times how things end up working out, if not how we wanted them to, then the best way they could have. This belief gives me peace of mind when I might otherwise freak out. In any number of ways.

So, as I stand in my office I realize that I was self-sabatoging a little over the past couple weeks. I emailed several forms back to HR that ended up being blank (I swear they weren’t when I sent them…stupid ‘save’ button). I also somehow missed that I needed to get a background check before I started. Minor detail…

Fortunately, my employer has been great with these things. But it did get me thinking. I hear people talk about how it’s too late to pursue their dream. I don’t believe that. I think it’s exactly the right time, when you decide to do it. Maybe it won’t look precisely like you imagined it, but when you’re ready, it will unfold how it’s supposed to. And if you’re not ready, that’s ok, too. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, even if it’s an uncomfortable place. My guess is that there’s probably a lesson you need to learn before you move on. And just a side note, even if that lesson involves another person in some way, it’s not about them. At all. It’s all about what’s going on inside of you.

So now what do I do about my little self-sabatoge??? Well, at least now I’m aware of it, that’s always the first step. For a while I’ll need to be more aware of what I’m doing to make sure I have all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. And remember not to be complacent in what I do. For me, that’s when I get lazy. And, boy, can I get lazy.

I guess my question for you is, “Do you have a dream and are you following it?” If not, that’s ok, but are you at least doing something that you love? It doesn’t matter what it is, work, family, yoga, baking, being a parent, a lover, an artist, musician, athlete, or even taking time to knit or read a good book. Just pick something you love and do it. Whether or not you’re doing something you love (but especially if you’re not), remember to be kind to yourself. I don’t think many people have ever beat themselves into doing something. Instead, I believe these things come from loving ourselves. Learn to be kind to yourself, let yourself make mistakes, take care of yourself, be a little selfish (or self-ful, as the case may be). And when you’ve learned to love yourself (and do what you love), go share that love with others.