I’ve returned from a trip to NYC and am recovering from a cold, so I’m rerunning a blog with an appropriate message. I have no doubt we could all use a little more gentleness.

~*~

I shuffled into the bathroom and looked at my sleepy self in the mirror. I immediately thought of Louise Hay and her commitment to the practice of “mirror work” – the habit of saying “I love you. I really, really love you,” each time you look in a mirror. As I smiled at her memory and said the words to myself, I grabbed my electric toothbrush and began cleaning my teeth.

“Hey, go easy with that thing,” my husband Michael said as he walked into the room.

What? I said, using my best zombie impersonation.

“You’re so rough when you brush your teeth. Please, be gentle with yourself.”

This was the second time in a week that Michael had mentioned how rough I was brushing my teeth, so I took note. It’s one thing to say “I love you” to yourself and another to act like it.

When I finished in the bathroom, I went downstairs to sit in my favorite chair by the window overlooking our backyard. I thought about Michael’s comment. Why was I still so rough on myself in ways I hadn’t noticed? Tears flooded my eyes as I felt the pain of years of working long, crazy hours, staying up late when I needed to sleep, keeping commitments to others and breaking them to myself, and pushing my body to move faster when it desperately needed to slow down. So many versions of rough and so little acquaintance with softness.

The body holds memory. It’s a wise student who follows our lead, and it does its best to memorize the behaviors we engage in frequently so it can use autopilot to its advantage. This is one of the reasons old habits die hard. They’ve been in place, often since childhood, and they’re as automatic and reliable as a sunrise.

I want something different at this stage in my life. I’m learning to value the gentleness of waking up without an alarm and the joy of a commitment-free, spontaneous day. I’m putting time between activities to experience and appreciate the value of smooth transitions from one task to another. And I’m learning to ask for help and then receive it when offered despite how strange it feels to do so.

Oh, and I’m now learning to brush my teeth with tenderness.

In the words of Louise Hay, “You will be with you longer than anyone else on the planet. Why not make it a good relationship?”

Always the teacher, even from the other side. I hear you, sweetheart, I say to her as I gaze out the window at the morning light. “Soft and gentle” is my new mantra, and I welcome it with open arms.

Love,
Cheryl