Do I describe my Monday as indulgent or necessary?
Do I admit sheepishly or declare loudly and proudly that I …
… caught up with a friend and delved into deep, nurturing conversation which filled my soul with its goodness over coffee
… then had an hour session with my Counsellor
… followed by 2 hours at the gym (cue collective gasp that I have joined – I am as surprised as anyone … and I feel a traitor to me of a week ago that I am finding great joy and energy in pushing my body, in getting completely lost in the moves and being able to laugh at myself and high-five my imperfection in doing things – simple things, like jogging – which I have long told myself that I. Can’t. Do).
… and then on to taking Nina to gymnastics sans the littlest 2 who were picked up, fed, bathed and loved by my endlessly generous sister-in-law and mother-in-law … which gave me time to write some words, and watch the class.
My inclination is to keep this to myself.
It is up there with Dream Days. I don’t want to show off. To add to the unreal images of life – especially Mum Life – which are so prevailing and so unhelpful. My Ego shouts that I am the epitome of a Kept Woman.
But. A wise voice within urges differently. “Speak the truth”. “Disarm the shame around self love”. “Dispel the guilt and the martyrdom; encourage others to fill their cup – to look after themselves as they look after their children and those around them.”
A friend recently shared with me that when she was finding life particularly hard a few years ago, her Counsellor prescribed an hour to herself – each day. When I was at my lowest this would have seemed impossible: overly simple and yet deeply hard (I wrote more about this over here).
It fills me with hope and a sense of how far I have come that I now can take 5 whole hours to myself.
And I can agree with the counsellor that time to yourself is magic, healing, restorative, energizing and necessary.
A day like this makes me a more patient and present Mum, Wife and person: I tend not to race through the nighttime routine so much, have the space to ask more interesting questions about the day, am more likely to say “lets dance” than “lets turn on the tv” … it helps me to sleep better, have more zest for projects, more clarity, and fills me with a deep sense of pride and appreciation of my body and wisdom.
It would be easy to call it self-indulgent but it’s not – not all when you reflect on it.
As I struggled to sum this all up, a friend put it perfectly: “it’s an investment, Clare”. That it is – and a bloody good one at that.
PS. The Universe seems to agree with this … that afternoon and evening I saw CRF number plates everywhere (my initials) – it’s a quirky sign from my Angels that I’m on the right track … and as I got out of the car this feather was sticking out of the grass waiting for me. And it is still there 2 days later – even through all that crazy, torrential rain.