007 | The Work of Self-Care & Where We Put Our Energy
10:16 AM, Saturday // the tan couch, Otis coffee, with a Stegosaurus mug
Dear Friends,
I was reminded this morning, in receiving a Stegosaurus mug at the coffee shop, what my favorite dinosaur was as a kid. It was the Brontosaurus. I think because it appeared to have moved slowly and regally, and it seemed gentle and kind, yet was big and powerful. I wonder if you had a favorite dinosaur growing up.
I went to workout at my CrossFit gym this morning, even though I had many moments of resistance pulling me back toward bed or cozying up on the couch. But I remembered there was a reason I had decided the night before to set out my gym clothes. I knew I actually wanted to go, because I actually enjoy CrossFit, because I want to get healthy and strong, and because I know physical activity helps my brain/emotions/mood function the way it should.
This is a season of self-care, of truly learning it, in body and mind.
I’ve been thinking a lot about energy lately. Where I want to put my energy, with spaces and relationships. I’m noticing ways I’ve self-sabotaged my energy, taking things on I didn’t need to carry, or putting effort and attention where there was no reciprocation.
I have a practice of writing letters, some to send, and others to help me process. Sometimes they’re hard to read back over, and I can feel harsh towards my own thoughts. This is an excerpt from such a letter. And allow me to preface by saying, I believe there are varying degrees and depths of friendship, and the one below is speaking to the humans who sit in your inner court and honor your work as you navigate the deepest things of life together. The letter reads as follows:
“Are we friends because we choose to be or because it is convenient?
I value your voice and presence in my life, and therefore, I want to include you on the details, thoughts, and movement in my life. If you do not care to do the same, to make an effort to have me be a part of your life ... if the only way I can keep up with what is going on in your life is passively through social media, frankly, I would rather put my energies elsewhere. Although truly, I want you in my life, but you must want me in yours.
I will no longer have passive friendships. I have no more time and energy for friends of convenience. I choose you. Do you choose me? I hope you say yes. I will not be offended if you say no. But if no, I will pick up my cup of coffee, rise from this empty table, and seek a friend who would join me at another.”
Gosh, it does sound harsh, but it was written in the moment without filtering. It was how I felt, and I just needed to get it out. Were I ever to communicate these things, I would certainly take pause to consider my words with care and compassion. And yet, I have a tendency to sacrifice myself for the sake of others, and so, I recognized my need to write out my heart a bit more bluntly in the moment. And that is well.
All this to say, I am becoming more mindful about my energies and my relationships. I'm trying to always express gratitude for the multitude of voices in my life, while choosing to particularly lean in to those voices who make efforts in regards to my voice in there’s, not because it is expected, but desired.
Having said all of the above, my heart returns to the words below, an excerpt from a poem by W.H. Auden.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Much love to you beautiful souls,
Shel
P.S. I intended to share a ticket link to my upcoming show at the Larimer Lounge opening for LVDY on March 14th, buuuuut it already sold out online. However, I do have four (yes, ONLY FOUR) physical tickets left. $15 a piece. First come, first serve. Respond to this email if you'd like any of them!
NOTE: I think the show might be moved up an hour, DOORS: 7, SHOW: 8. I'll confirm soon!
THIS WEEK I:
Watched this video that got me asking myself, to what things in my life could I say, "Why not now?"
At the age of 49, blind and afraid of water, Vivian Stancil dove in to save her life.
