space to be

I have been trying to coach myself to think less before writing, and trust me, that is no small task. I will often begin to write something in my head, or start down a particular vein, only to talk myself out of it, or to get side-tracked by something else entirely. And my motivation for writing is not to meet a deadline, or even really to meet an expectation (although my calendar reminders do haunt me…). But rather to make space for this form of expression, to share with others, yes; but also to make space here for myself.

And that leads to today’s musings, because even writing the phrase ‘make space here for myself’ is incredibly uncomfortable for me. I have strong angst about quite a few things, many of them very random… and the concept of ‘self-care’ is one that I definitely have a hard time with.

It conjures up for me nail appointments, bubble baths, and spa getaways - none of which are bad at all, but they leave a funny taste in my mouth when they’re tied to some sort of need or entitlement. I have a very hard time believing that anyone ‘needs’ their nails done. In our culture, self-care is often tied to indulgence, or can even skew to a space where our individual needs take precedence and priority over anything else. I don’t believe this is how we are invited or designed to exist in the world, with ourselves always landing at the centre.

However, before anyone feels like they need to justify their salon appointments to me, which is not at all what I’m aiming for, my angst/discomfort/reaction in this area has caused me to be curious about the ways that I do make space for myself, and also the ways that I don’t.

Because more than anything I am realizing that I have much to learn here.

This week has had a funny mix of intense emotional moments. A few days ago marked two years since my last round of chemo. Some head-scarf pictures came up in my memories, which led me to dig up the journal/blog entries from that week and eventually led to me making my way through all of the writing from that year, the emotions, memories and heaviness of that season coming again like a crashing wave.
I also went to get my hair trimmed yesterday; the first time since covid/cancer that wasn’t with just me and a much-loved friend… and as I sat in the salon chair, I was having quite a lot of big feelings about a simple haircut. Even now as I write, the tears are coming… tears that represent deep, heavy feelings of grief and loss. Tears that are asking me to make space for myself and for my body.

I think for me, there are two things at play: a hesitation to focus on my body and its experiences as significant and worthy of attention, and also a larger resistance to sharing my places of need with those around me. Right now… I’m unconvinced that I’ll actually publish this post because it’s a ‘rub-you-the-wrong-way’ kind of feeling for me to be spending time on this at all (but I’m also writing without talking myself out of it… so we’ll see what wins :))

Because this learning is live and raw, and I could ramble for a really long time about it… I’m going to try to focus in on the helpful things I’m remembering and learning afresh.

My body is wise.
I recently read a beautiful book by Hilary McBride called The Wisdom of Your Body, and one piece that has stayed strongly with me is the invitation to begin speaking to my own body, my own self, as if I were talking to a loved one. It is so much easier for me to immediately know how I would approach a friend, or even a stranger, who is is distress, than it is for me to approach my own body with that sort of kindness, patience, and presence. I love the gentle invitation to start from where I am, and to grow through practicing what it means to value the wise, wholistic truths that my body is telling me. My tears are telling me to be curious, to notice what is rising, and to hold sacred space for the real and important things my body has lived.

There is also a reminder here that listening to our bodies is not a selfish act. Which may seem super obvious to some of you, but is a truth I need to remind myself of often. Our bodies, our emotions, our feelings are all a part of who we are - the beloved ones. And because we are wholly loved, wholly known, wholly valued by God, it is right and good for us to also give value and care to all the parts that make up who we are. This does not need to equal indulgence or entitlement, but rather is a picture of the rhythms of receiving and giving that we are invited to as God’s people. We are invited to mirror his wholistic love, both for others and for ourselves.

My needs matter, and not just to God.
I have lived and learned the significance of coming to God with my real needs, my lack, my waning. And I know the richness of how he meets me in those spaces and shows me more of who he is and who I am.
How, not surprising then, that I am also made to need this kind of space with others as well. It is in fact, how we are created, to be interconnected, to be dependent on one another. God invites us to relationship, with him, but also to relationship with each other - as family, as friends, as neighbours, as the church. We are made to be together, and that togetherness, that dependence, includes both the space I give to care for others, and the needs I bring that need to be met with care.
As I sat with these thoughts this morning, a flood of recent life examples came to mind where I have been amazingly cared for by others, especially in moments where I wasn’t expecting it. That care, that space to be seen and held in love, is transformative:

A friend who sincerely thanked me for asking for help so that she had the opportunity to be with me in a challenging moment.
Friends who easily ride the waves of delight and silliness merged with deep pain and difficulty, and all of it made richer because of a shared experience.
A friend who asked if I was finding enough time for writing in the midst of full days and weeks, knowing the space it makes for me to be me.
A sister-in-law who shared a deeply-loving prayer that I would be able to value my well-being high enough to make hard boundary choices when needed.

image credit: Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Truly, I could go on for a long time… I am very well-loved by many people in my life.
And sometimes, I just need to remember that it is okay to need that.
In fact, more than okay, it is necessary and important, it is good and right, it is part of who I am made to be, to need that.

Do you have the space that you need to be?
Are you familiar with the dance of holding space for the difficulties of others, but also remembering that your own needs matter too?
Are you in relationships where others freely share their places of need? Where you feel safe to share the real parts of yourself that need someone to bear witness to?
Maybe today is a good day to remember where those spaces are, to value them, to make use of them.

We are made to need each other. To be in the thick of the real, hard, get-it-wrong-more-than-right spaces alongside one another, not giving up, but trying again when it’s messy and not quite there yet.
And I’m not sure we’re great at this yet. I am certainly not.
But I’m learning… and as ever, I’m grateful for this space to be xo