Today I had the novel thought, “What if I loved myself, just as I am, right where I am?” This musing came as I caught a glimpse of my forty-year-old image. In that particular instance, my heart worked faster than my ego, and I loved my middle-aged body. Everything is different than it once was. As we all come out of isolation, I find myself teetering between wanting to continue to hang back in the world of the remote, or to bring myself deeply into community. The only way I can fully conceive of reintegration back into the world after over two years alone, is to begin with radical acceptance of who I am. 

I can start with my body. I can love and energetically kiss every inch of this vessel from head to toe. It’s true, it gives me a headache much of the time. My joints ache, my limbs don’t move the way they used to, and the constitution of my body feels entirely different than it did ten years ago. There are rolls and creases in places I didn’t know had that ability. I’m starting to understand gravity in a way that I simply couldn’t before. This is how I’m supposed to look at my age; this is part of the deal as we are gifted more life. We see where the journey takes us. 

My visage is a physical map of where I’ve been and where I’m meant to go next. I have been to canyons so deep with sorrow and meadows so lovely that they’ve actually cast spells on me. I have experienced the sensuality of being alive and simply noticing. I have carried others on my back, I have let go when it was time to, and I have fought the hard battles. Every curve, smile line, and every strand of silver hair, tells the story of my beautiful messy life. This body tells the story of someone who is human, just like everyone else. At forty, I have the wisdom and faith that what is next is a life committed to peace. 

I am so committed to peace because I know intimately what it feels like not to have it. Having a reactive mind makes it difficult to stay grounded. My parents modeled emotional reactivity to me my entire life. I think they were hoping that it would skip a generation, but no such luck. I inherited the habit energy of my parents and ancestors, and have had much failure and some success in trying to change course. My Achilles’ heel is getting caught up in everybody else and forgetting myself—forgetting to care for my side of the street, forgetting my own wants and needs, forgetting to consistently and kindly use my voice, forgetting that it’s not my job to take care of everyone else.

The curious paradox is, that once I accept myself, just as I am, then I can change.

Carl Rogers

I fry myself by running this hamster wheel and then…BOOM! We’ve got a reaction, people! It ain’t pretty. But when I can take the risk of sharing who I really am, the shame starts to dissipate and I can see myself more clearly. The space that is created when I share from a vulnerable place allows tenderness to come be with me. It nurtures and guides me to remember how much I belong. 

This is something that my spirit remembers but my mind forgets. We all belong on this planet. I mean, we’re all here, aren’t we? There was no application process, no membership fee.  We were simply born into this existence, and none of it happened in isolation. Why then, do I insist on feeling so separate from everyone else? It’s because I get caught up in the melodramas of my mind, and I start to believe all the story lines.

Everything changes once we identify with being the witness to the story, instead of the actor in it.

Ram Dass

Thankfully, our greatest teachers remind us that we are spiritual beings, having a human experience. The soul is so abiding and expansive, it can’t be touched by the trappings of this world. When I remember I am a soul, I feel strong again. I’m no longer blown about by every wind. When I remember that I am a soul, I can drop the judgment and move into compassion or love. RD’s yummy mantra, “I am loving awareness,” is one of the easiest paths back to the heart. I like to sit in meditation and play that one on repeat. 

It is wholly possible to love myself, just as I am, right where I am. I have these long moments, or even hours, when I get to experience that kind of radical self-acceptance. Those experiences are my center and they continue to call me back home when I’ve strayed. I love coming back home and remembering the truth of who I am: I am imperfect and totally lovable, just like you. That awareness makes stepping back into the world a much more friendly, welcome experience. We can do this.