love others as you love yourself

i know it's bad when i start getting canker sores. i don't know what it is, but i'm one of those people who gets canker sores. they're horrible little monsters, really. if you don't get them, you can't possibly understand what it's like to have multiple ulcers in your mouth at one time. you can't eat or brush your teeth without pain searing through your mouth and into your body. even drinking water can become exhausting. and they don't go away. and i don't care what anyone says - there is no sure fire cure. i've tried them all.

canker sores are my body's way of telling me that things are out of whack. well, canker sores and headaches and a sore throat and just being exhausted.

it's amazing, actually, how quickly i can turn from a joyful, playful, hopeful girl into a strung out, beat down version of myself. and i'm getting there. i've got the canker sores to prove it.

the first time anyone called me out on my tendency to stop caring for myself was my senior year of college. my roommate, courtney, basically told me that if i had to go to the university health center one more time because i was getting sick, she was going to lock me in our apartment until i learned what it meant to know my limits. i was blown away. i hadn't ever really thought about it before. i had always just assumed that i wasn't supposed to take care of myself. it sounded so selfish.

now, i'm not trying to imply that i didn't then, and don't now, ever do things for myself. i am at least more self aware than that. most of the time i am pretty sure the world actually does revolve around me (doesn't it?), and i'm more than happy to put my needs above others. it's just that usually the things i choose to do or want or try aren't actually the things that i need. when it's coming from a selfish place, it's all usually thoughtless and sometimes pointless. i don't consider being selfish the same thing as taking care of myself.

unfortunately, this strung out version of myself is not a pretty picture. canker sores aside, i know things are getting bad when i start getting annoyed by everyone. even the innocent girl who happened to be walking faster than i was on my way home this afternoon. or my classmate who is breathing too loudly next to me. or my roommates and the way they want things from me. all of the sudden email is more than i can handle, and calling people back (people who i love and desperately want to talk to) becomes a mountain that i can't climb. going on dates stops being fun and starts being more drama than i can handle. and how in the heck to my instructors really have the nerve to ask us to do so much all the time!?

deep breath.

the thing is, i can't live this way. i've spent years of my life, literally years, inhabiting my body as 'strung out monster' maggie instead of faith-filled, hope-filled, recklessly abandoned maggie. funny maggie. fun maggie. real maggie.

i can't keep doing this. i've got to learn. i've got to figure out how to care deeply about things, and feel things and dive in without giving so much that i eventually end up empty and exhausted. i need to allow myself the freedom to fail at life, to fail at relationships, to fail professionally, to fail at loving and serving and hoping, and to be okay. to take things as they come, and trust in the process, and let things roll off my back. to sometimes choose my needs and trust myself. trust the Spirit that's alive within me.

because - and i know this first hand so stick with me on this - we human beings are pretty horrible at taking care of other people when we don't know anything about taking care of ourselves. my good friend dan considers self-care a spiritual discipline. it takes discipline to admit that i actually do have needs, and sometimes i need other people to help me meet them, sometimes only God can meet them, and sometimes i just need to step out and claim them for myself. and it's so honest, and so human. but i know so many people who are ridiculously bad at it.

now i just need to figure out what the heck self-care means in my life. i think it means walking around the city at sunset taking pictures of people and things that i love. or putting on headphones and walking 4 miles at night by myself (only in well-lit places, of course). it means spending 2 days by myself at a hostile on the ocean, quieting down enough to finally hear the still, soft voice of a loving God. listening to that voice and acting as He leads me. giving myself the permission to just be where i'm at right now. putting my textbooks away, knowing that enough studying is enough and now i need to spend time laughing with my roommates, or getting to know my classmates, or drinking a beer with my brother (and not feeling guilty about it). letting go of my anxiety and trusting that each patient i will care for has been hand-picked for me because we have something important to offer one another. taking time to grocery shop and go to farmers' markets and browse the used book store. google chatting with my friends in san francisco. oh, and sleep. getting enough sleep. and staying in on friday (without feeling the need to apologize) when that's all i want to do.

letting myself be filled so that there is an abundance in me to flow out into the world around me.