Love Letters - Part III Learning to Love Yourself Well

Today, as I was planning to write, I felt a deep questioning. Who am I to be talking about love? This week I don’t feel so loving. It’s not that I am feeling hate, but rather I feel tired and complaisant and just a bit blah. I haven’t slept enough lately or taken enough relaxing baths. I haven’t been writing. That in itself is a sure sign that my heart is just not in this thing called life. “Calgon, take me away!”

But then…I stopped to consider what my topic was and in a flash everything about writing to you suddenly made sense. “Practice self-love and care” is the next topic. The work of months ago is a good reminder for me today.

Part III

“If needed an oxygen mask will drop from above your seat. To start the flow of oxygen firmly pull the mask toward you and extend the plastic tubing. Place the mask over your nose and mouth; place the elastic band over your head and tighten the strap as necessary. Although the bag does not inflate, oxygen will flow to the mask. Secure your mask before helping others.” --airline safety instructions


In order to love well you must:
· Practice self-love and care

So what is all this business about loving yourself. I thought love was supposed to be selfless, self-sacrificing. For most girls this idea often replaces even the natural instinct to self-preservation. We are taught to nurture and care for everyone, everyone but ourselves that is. And I have found it easier to throw myself into the fire of maternal martyrdom than to take a few minutes for myself.

But this life of endless self-sacrifice is not sustainable, and not just for me, not just for women. A lack of attention to the needs of the self undermines the basic biblical commands of Judaism and Christianity. “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Leviticus 19:18) and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:31) In hearing these quoted over and over again all my life, at no point did I stop to consider that loving another was predicated on my loving myself. Truly, what does it mean to love your neighbor as yourself if you do not love yourself?

A particularly applicable Jewish proverb goes like this “To get wisdom is to love oneself; to keep understanding is to prosper.” (Proverbs 19:8) What I believe this author is saying is that in order to have this much esteemed quality of wisdom, we must know and attend to ourselves. To continue that attention enables us to function fully in the world. You have probably heard it said, that you can not drink from an empty well. So I have found that it is difficult to love others well when I am not understanding the concept of loving myself well first.

So what does it mean to love yourself? The very question brings fear of something I am desperate not to become—self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic. But I have learned through the example of the great teachers and through my own experience, that this attitude or revulsion toward self-love is a distraction that pulls us away from a deeper relationship with God.

I, like many others, had constructed an understanding of myself and my nearness to God which is both faulty and incomplete. My understanding was focused on my being flawed, unworthy and unlovable. I believe I saw myself in this way in part as a result of my Christian upbringing.

Before anyone is in an uproar over that statement, let me explain. I consider myself a Christian, not because I believe that Jesus is my Lord and Savior, because I don’t. Rather, I consider myself a Christian because I was raised in the cultural deeps of the Protestant ethic and because I believe in the sage wisdom of Jesus, the prophet of God. As a grown woman, I love God. But the God of my youth is not the loving God that I discovered in my adulthood. The God of my youth stood in judgment, just waiting until the final days to release my soul to a fire-filled hell. And despite my best efforts, I could never deserve his love. I could never be worthy of his love. I was too sinful, too broken, too lost, too female, too faithless. And so I was caught between a rock and hard place. I felt unworthy of God’s love and I felt it was pointless to try to be good enough. If God knew what was in my heart, he knew that I did not believe in a virgin birth, could not say that I believed Jesus died for my sins and that his death and resurrection washed my sin away if only I’d just believe. So I felt judged. I was damned. I decided not to bother trying to be better, even though I knew in my heart that God wanted so much more for my life. So I went on hating myself, all the while searching for the God who could take me just as I am, who could love me despite my disbelief and who would save me even if I couldn’t muster the spiritual courage to reach upward for his hand.

I found that God. I found him in the Jesus of the canonical gospels and the Jesus of the Gnostic gospels. I found him as he flowed through Baha’u’llah and in the Nothingness of the Buddha’s teaching. I found God and my life changed course.

I love the story in the book of John about the adulterous woman who is brought before Jesus as a test. There is a crowd of self-righteous men passing judgment upon her. That judgment was death. Jesus said, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8:7) At this, even the most pious person walked away. In that moment Jesus made it clear to her and, more importantly to the witnesses gathered about, that he had more to say than “don’t kill her.” He did something more incredible, incredible because it was averse to Jewish law. He lifted her up; he presented her as the spiritual equal of those who were readying to throw the stones. Later in John, Jesus says, “You judge by human standards. I judge no one.” (John 8:15) I say ‘amen.’ There is a great deal more here than mercy or forgiveness. Here is Grace.

So I get to start over again. I get to start over with Grace on my side and knowing that I am your spiritual equal and you are mine. I know that I am loved and forgiven even when I act poorly or feel faithless, even when I turn my back on God in anger or grief. I find myself motivated by this boundless love to be a better person, to give to others what has been given to me.

Still in order to reflect this great love into the world, it seems that the great teachers say the same thing over and over again. You must take care of yourself first. This includes:
1) attending to our basic physical needs so that we have energy to do good work
2) making efforts to understand our inner state of being, which includes our inner dialogue and motivations (such as fears and desires) so that we can see the right path and know when we require assistance
3) deepening our spiritual selves/connection to God so that we can hear divine guidance and more clearly reflect God’s/pure love into the world.

A story that illustrates the first point is one regarding a prince named Sakyamuni. When Sakyamuni saw that there was suffering in the world, he was deeply despairing. And so he left his lavish palace behind in search of the answers to death and suffering. In the course of his journey he met a group of ascetics who taught to him that in order to attain the highest understanding he must not take food, among other things. And so Sakyamuni meditated all the while starving himself until one day he collapsed. As the story goes, a milk maid found him there and, attempting to revive him, gave him some milk. Each day Sakyamuni grew stronger as he accepted the milk and rice that the woman brought. When he was well enough he sat beneath a great Banyan tree on a bed of straw, provided by a young herdsman. There he meditated accepting food and drink and the comfort of the straw until he became enlightened. At this point he was renamed the Buddha, the awakened one. What would our world look like if the Buddha, after having been saved by the young milk maid, went back to starving himself? This story illustrates for us the necessity of caring for oneself and accepting help from others in doing so. Practically speaking, we all need to respect our manifested selves by eating healthy food, getting adequate rest, and exercising. Likewise, we ought to show gratitude and appreciation for the bodies we were given by thinking positively about them and by not abusing them with drugs, alcohol, overeating, self-mutilation and the like. It is unfortunate that we have to be reminded of such basic attentions.

The second point, ‘know thyself’, is more difficult in my opinion. It requires constant vigilance and, in some cases, in depth study. Perhaps the best thing I ever did for myself was to go through psychotherapy. The process was lengthy and expensive, but it was worth every minute. During this time I was able to peel back my inner layers and uncover the root of my fears, unmask my motivations, and demystify the patterns in my relationships. In the center of so much of my anxiety and unhappiness was me. This reminds me of a poem by the Sufi mystic Rumi:

Don’t go off sightseeing.
The real journey is right here.
The great excursion starts from exactly where you are.
You are the world.
You have everything you need.
You are the secret.
You are the wide opened.

Don’t look for the remedy for your troubles outside yourself.
You are the medicine.
You are the cure for your own sorrow.

That is not to say that events beyond your control don’t happen. Of course they do. What this means is that I have the power to control the inner dialogue that I have with myself that tells me that I am not okay, that enables me in destructive relationships or patterns, that constructs a reality of mistrust and emotional violence. Life will continue to happen, but when you begin to understand how you function energetically in your world, you will begin to live with the flow of life rather than being bowled over by it, drowned by it, or constantly swimming against it.

I am not necessarily suggesting that everyone run out and find a psychotherapist. A therapist could be useful, but a pastor, spiritual guide or good friend can be a great person to reflect with or get advice from when you are struggling to know yourself. I would also suggest Eckhart Tolle. From what I have read of his work, he is very adept at teaching this point and providing a jumping off point for this type of self-awareness. There are many religious and spiritual writings that can also serve this function. In general, if you simply slow down long enough to listen to your self-talk in times of trouble, you will begin to unravel the threads of the veil that stands between you and love.

Doing the work of attending to my own inner self is a heck of a lot harder than attending to someone else’s problems. Jesus reminds us over and over again not to judge others, but he also warns against helping others to solve their problems before we have solved our own. In Matthew he says:

Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye. (7:3-5)

Sounds a lot like those airline safety instructions, huh?

Before I move on I also want to point out a popular misconception about loving others well that relates to loving yourself well. Loving others well does not preclude you from setting boundaries. If, for instance, you are in an abusive relationship—physically, emotionally or psychologically—your love for that person does not mean that you must continue the relationship as it is, or at all. In fact, making the best choice for yourself may end up being the best choice for the other person as well. Enabling yourself or another to continue in an unhealthy behavior does not encourage change in either party. Even when God calls us to love and work among those who are deeply troubled, God is not asking us to be a punching bag. Taking care of ourselves enables us to reach out.

The next part in loving yourself well is deepening your spiritual connection to the Source of your being. How we deepen that relationship is a persistent question. The short answer is to develop a spiritual practice. As I mentioned in the beginning of this series of letters, the parts of this process are all interrelated. Because I thought it was valuable to explore the idea of spiritual practice in greater detail myself, I listed it separately. But even so, I am hoping that you will remember (should I forget to say it again) that having a spiritual practice is an integral part of loving yourself well. If you forget, don’t worry. I forget about spiritual practice all the time.

For now I will leave you to your journeys. I hope that you will all join me in an attempt to love yourselves a little better. Speak more kindly to yourself. Take time to get to know who you are. Ask for what you need. And know that you are loved, most especially by me.

T