Self love

On Wednesday mornings I attend a sangha at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland where we read the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, meditate and have inspiring discussions. This morning we were talking about how “self love” is a concept that can be difficult to understand. I know it has been for me. When I first came across the idea of loving myself in my twenties, I really didn’t know what it meant. Who was loving who? I didn’t feel very lovable anyway but I didn’t understand how I was supposed to love myself even if I decided I was worthy of it.

As I continued on my healing journey, I learned that there were parts of me that would arise that needed love. The younger parts trapped in the past. And that I (somehow separate from those parts but also not separate) could offer those parts love. The idea of self love started to make more sense. I could see and care for these parts of me as they appeared and the suffering would decrease. 

On my first meditation retreat, I experienced a different kind of self love. I had been trying to quiet my own mind, to be “good” at meditation, which of course was not the point. I was miserable. By the third day of this struggle, I finally had a mental collapse. “I give up. I’m terrible at this,” I thought. And in that moment, a love came pouring in. I wasn't doing it. It was just there. It surrounded me and I was completely held in it. I was amazed by this. There was an unconditional love I could experience that seemed to just be there. 

I do my best to practice loving myself. There are parts of me that still need to be seen and held by me and I am getting better and better at tending to these parts. To offer understanding and forgiveness and the room to be messy. But there is also this existential love that shows up in meditation, in nature, in synchronicities, in surrender that I’ve learned to lean into and trust. I can’t tell you what it is or where it comes from but it feels big and true and real.

And sometimes I know that I am this love. And so are you.