It’s one of my favourite days of the week.
The day starts with dreams and sleep.
Last night’s dreams involved being excluded by mean girls, a trip down memory lane visiting my ex-husbands before my upcoming wedding, and architecturally specific memories of my childhood. Quite a mixed bag.
I sleep until I’m done on Sundays.
After I’m done sleeping, I spend a good amount of time snuggled under the covers letting my mind go wherever it wants to.
I think about what I’m going to cook later, why women feel so much pressure, how I might counteract those pressures through what I write here. I think about the arrogance of that idea. I wonder about how/if being on the margins has helped me shake off some of the crippling self-loathing and spiritual malnourishment women endure.
I watch the light change. I think about nothing. I simply am.
Coffee calls to me.
Sitting up in bed, listening to the sound of my fingers tapping on my iPad keyboard, and hearing nothing else – that’s Sunday.
Sometimes I listen to a podcast, read a book, then watching Netflix. Sundays are mine. I guard this time.
Writing a blog thing is an odd practice. It’s in some ways purely a journal of my life – undisciplined in output and free flowing. These words can be meh or meaningful; I don’t control that. Once they leave my fingers, they are no longer just mine. They become yours, ours somehow.
I often feel that I have “things I want to say”. I also often feel that having “things I want to say” could be a massive turn-off. My authority on these things; it’s not externally validated. It’s been found in the living I’ve done. It has come to me through time and tears. So. Many. Tears. It has not become my truth by learning – though I’ve had many teachers. The beliefs I hold at the core of my being, they are not easily, pithily packaged. I haven’t yet found a way to create a six step plan to personal freedom. Bugger. That thing could be a best seller.
Time is a hugely important component to learning about yourself. What do most women feel poorest in? Time.
Time doesn’t mean six weeks in an ashram or an extended sabbatical from daily life. Yet time is crucial.
On Sundays each week, I dedicate time to simply being. There’s no agenda to deeply contemplate my life, there is simply space. In that space, I give my SELF room to breathe, room to speak, room to be. I am refreshed by this practice. I become present.
Creating and guarding this space allows me to not just rest physically, but it has been the cornerstone of becoming comfortable with my mind, my SELF.
I am convinced that the discomfort many people seem to feel within themselves is actually strengthened, not sated, by filling every moment with activity, to-do lists and being “productive”. How much is ever enough?
The quest for validation is not externally won. It’s an inside job.
Take a deep breath. Ready?
The quest for validation is not externally won.
It’s an inside job.
More than anything, I believe that you and I can know ourselves deeply.
I believe this knowing opens us up to loving ourselves deeply; accepting, gentle, fierce, compassionate love.
I believe it with my whole heart.
Let’s talk about this. The comments section is yours. ❤️