I listened to a podcast yesterday where two former addicts were discussing how self-love was so hard.
This got me thinking, this morning, about love. I’ve mused about love extensively in the past. This morning, I had a bit of clarity about what love means to me. Much like spirituality, it’s a tough word to define. Like spirituality, I’ve done a bunch of reading about it, and I’ve sought it out in the world. I’ve looked for love in romantic relationships, in friendships, and in prestige, in “likes.”
While I got “high” from these experiences, none of them ultimately proved to be a durable source of love.
In the past week, though, I did three practices which helped me access self-love:
- Body scan — I went up and down my body, focusing on areas of tension. Wherever there was tension, I gave this area the warm light of my attention, breathed in, and breathed out just a little bit of that tension.
- Letters from love — I wrote several letters to myself, inspired by the prompt “Dear love, what would you have me know today?” Credit to Liz Gilbert.
- Guidework — I did a guided meditation where I went underground and met up with my buddy Thich Nhat Hanh who gave me some unconditional warmth and acceptance. Credit to Megan and Chris.
It strikes me that these different words we use — words like understanding, acceptance, belonging, being seen, and love — all point to an energy, which, as close as I can put it in words, amounts to the energy of being held.
So is self-love hard?
Well, we have parts of ourselves that aren’t very loving. When lost in these parts, we can search for love in the external world. I remember reading once that using heroin was like “being hugged by Jesus.” I’ve never been a heroin addict, but I’ve done essentially the same thing a heroin addict does: looking for love outside myself.
I now know that there are ways I can access loving energy within me. Yes, it’s nice to get love from people in my life too. But if I can’t provide love for myself, then I’m a “hungry ghost,” always searching for a feel good boost externally.
And also, the muscle that loves myself is the same as the one that loves others. Self-love isn’t selfish. Practicing it is actually the best thing I can do to really love others.
Kimya Dawson sings, “You can be sober, and not recover.” Even if one doesn’t use substances, one can be a hungry ghost, filling the need for love with X.
X can be many things.
A few of mine, over the years: shopping, romance, workaholism, new year’s resolutions.
In the podcast, one of the former addicts talks about “getting to the root cause of addiction.” I think the root cause of addiction is always the same: it’s the inability to hold oneself. To escape from an unpleasant inner empty feeling, the addict chases highs. It’s new years resolution time, and I’m reflecting now that for years, my drug of choice has been progress.
There’s nothing wrong with progress. Nothing wrong with exercise goals or dating or decluttering the house. But what is not healthy is using these things to escape a sense of inner emptiness.
Practice holding yourself, Dan. You can still go on the run this morning. But also, practice holding yourself.
danscreativeoulet 