To write a blog post means to take time for myself – ignoring the barking dog outside my windows who is either scaring off deer, or defending her territory from marauding neighbor dogs. Ignoring the addictive habit of turning on the news to learn what latest atrocity is emanating from the once lovely city where I was born. Ignoring the phone that invites me to check in with the wants, needs or disregard of others in my immediate circle of family and friends.
Taking time for myself seems solidly set in opposition to all that we are persuaded, daily, it is our obligation to engage with. Don’t be selfish. Put the needs of others before your own. Be a good neighbor, friend, wife, mother.
Where are the exhortations to be good to oneself, without which one cannot sustain constant care for others?
And in particular, what part of self is it that needs attention it is not getting?
Surely not the ego, that so easily takes pride in how well (or poorly?) it cares for all those others it is exhorted to attend to.
The reflective individual who does, indeed, do a good job of other care remains too often in a quandary of self doubt – feeling unsatisfied, empty, even bereft despite their long list of good works and behavior. I see it all around me, have felt it myself.
Why is that so?
Most certainly, because the self that needs care isn’t getting it. Ego is not the self that needs care.
Spirit, Soul, Inner Self, “that of God in everyone” is the self that needs care, but too rarely gets it.
I see it all around me, and am guilty of this neglect myself.
Hearing the exhortation to practice what you preach, I wish to relearn the habit of regular posting that I achieved some years ago, when I was also working full time and meeting other commitments. Somehow retirement, which should have given me more time, did the opposite. Partly due to a simultaneous health challenge to my energy. Partly due to living through Covid, two successive wildfires that did severe damage to my home, and a major change in my family situation. But mostly due to neglect of Self care. To post I must make time for inner reflection, which is one form of Self care. I must assure that I do my daily contemplation exercise, and keep my attention focused on the inner voice that guides me wisely. I have not totally lost those habits, but I have allowed myself to become distracted, overwhelmed.
No more.

The Cruelest Month
March 13, 2024March is the cruelest month. Despite years of knowing it is full of false promises of spring followed by bitter cold, often heavy wet dumps of snow, and chilling winds, I am unable to find balance as the temperatures swing from highs of mid sixties to lows in the teens and clouds chase away early morning sun even before I get out to feed the chickens. The persistently inconsistent weather has pushed the replacing of my septic system back and back and back again, as four consecutive days of dry weather are needed to do the work – and the delivery driver bringing the new tank has been unavailable twice, in the only weeks when those four days could be predicted. A lesson in patience that I don’t really need, after the past 9 months of being patient with an untimely contractor restoring my home from its damage in last May’s wildfire.
But maybe I should call May the cruelest month, as the Hermit’s Peak/Calf Canyon fire catastrophe of 2022 that smoked but didn’t burn me, and the 2023 Las Tusas fire that destroyed chunks of my property and damaged the house both occurred in early May. This year’s May should not be a threat, as there is not enough vegetation left to feed another wildfire. Not that insurance companies recognize that it is quite safe to insure my neighborhood now… but that’s a topic for another day.
Maybe it’s November that is cruel, forcing us out of daylight saving time and back into darkness at the end of the workday, just when we most need a bit of extra daylight to shop in preparation for the winter holidays?
No, I’ll stay with March. The hope-followed-by-disillusion cycle occurs annually and repetitively throughout the month, aggravating my already unpredictable ability to function on any given day due to an autoimmune triggered depletion of energy.
Yes, I hear you. Appreciating the immediate present is a way to cope. Detach from planning, go with the flow, all those fine sounding suggestions that do sometimes help. They don’t produce a new homeowner’s insurance policy that depends on completed restoration of the property that depends on consistent enough weather to do the exterior finishing work.
April, please hurry up and get here! Thank you.
Tags:lessons, My Life, New Mexico spring, uncertainty, weather
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