Being–or existing, or living, or however you choose to describe the experience of life without the pressures that come with living–is what I chose as my self-care practice yesterday.
Being is something most of us take for granted most of the time. Those who find themselves facing a serious health condition may be among the few who truly experience being for what it is–a gift.
The rest of us tend to forget that our time here on earth is finite, that it will come to an end at a time and place that is usually beyond our control. And we also forget that the precious moments we have been gifted with are intended to be used for more than simply paying our bills and buying more stuff.
So being. Being true to myself, without the preoccupation of what others think I should be, and without the unrealistic expectations that I often place on myself for what I think I should be either–that is what I chose to devote time to yesterday.
I have to admit that it felt really nice. I felt like I was reconnecting with the original “me,” with pigtails and a mischievious smile, having no clue what the world had in mind for me.
And, honestly, not much has changed.
I’m still not exactly sure how my life will play out, but I do know where I’m headed and what it is that I intend to do here.
The rest will simply have to unfold in the time and manner that it’s supposed to.
And I shall continue to do my part in the meantime.