i care for myself better when i'm alone...
... and other half-truths i grapple with, no end in sight.
it in no way baffles me that the last time i shared here, i was preparing for and reflecting on the significance of my annual hermit time that i’ve taken each april for the last few years. i would be remiss not to mention that this past april, for the first time in a while, i skipped that springtime ritual. *holds up HORRIFIED GASP audience cue card* and baby, i am feeling it.
you know why i skipped it?
in part, because i felt “okay.” lol what a disservice i do to myself when i sequester my own care rituals to crisis management. 🙄 the truth is the origin of this ritual many years ago was severe burnout and disconnection with myself. i created a very rigid, impenetrable container FOR ME to just BE ME, WITH ME because i couldn’t FIND ME in my day to day anymore. so when that origin story resolved, i didn’t accurately value the medicine still left for me in the ceremony of solitude.
alas, we live and learn.
also, if i’m honest with you (i always am), i didn’t have the capacity to figure out how to do it this april. at that time, i was about 7 months into a new full time job, and 4 months into cohabitating with my partner and establishing our family flow. prior to this year, i’d always enjoyed this solitude while self-employed, living alone or with access to many a friends’ home where i could hermit away undisturbed for days on end. that’s no longer my reality and bitch it is HARD figuring out how to carve out those little slices of heaven on earth when i’m in such deep proximity to other people … and their expectations of me.
reiterating my point: i care for myself better when i’m alone.
because it’s easier.
because i can simply be quiet and hear nothing else.
because i am not required to negotiate space and time.
because i can easefully identify where i begin and end.
because i feel less pressure to caretake, even for myself.
because i have less sensory input to process.
because i do not have to filter external feedback — whether resonant or dissonant.
because i can let it all hang out without the nervous system activation that comes with being perceived in my mess.
i could go on, but the truest truth is *whispers* because i am in control. 🙊
please give me the grace of averting your eyes and offering a simple, humble “mmmmmm” after that confession.
y’all, the recovering gifted kid in me still has a hard time when something doesn’t just come naturally to her and she has to actually — LEARN SOMETHING? WORK HARD? PRACTICE? STUDY??? god forbid, FAIL?!?!?!?!?!!!!
*screams in perpetuity*
you see, i care for myself better when i’m alone.
like many an eldest daughter, i earned this belief honestly through life experiences where i was left to care for others without receiving adequate care myself. my healing has required an abundance of autonomy to reconnect with MY voice, MY needs, MY desires. i needed (and often still need) time to witness and re-prioritize all that i’ve been conditioned to push to the back burner in order to show up for my family.
in tarot for change, jessica dore writes:
“the lesson of the hermit, the spiritual aspirant is learning to dwell inside liminal space between extremes…”
… and goes on to liken this major arcana card to dialectical behavior therapy which, in part, seeks to hold multiple truths at one time. now, brief intermission while i — *hops on the mic* ALL MY NON-BINARY & GENDER QUEER SIBLINGS STAND UUUUUUUP!
we know this game! the not quite girls, not quite boys, but secret, mysterious third things. the flowing between here and there and everywhere all at once. the rejection of one ultimate truth — about ourselves or the world. the refusal to play scarcity games of this-or-that to stay digestible. and how often this journey begins protected in a secret place inside of us often called “the closet.” we are the hermits walking the middle path of nuance and contradiction.
many moons ago, my friend noni limar quoted her (aquarian, might i add 💅🏽) husband as often saying “god lives in the middle.” and yeahhh — not only do i experience non-binary-ness (alongside other not clearly defined or packaged things) as godliness, but when i hermit, i experience life as embodied prayer.
a truer truth? i care for myself better when i feel close to god.
a fundamental truth about me is that silence is my favorite access point to intimacy with the divine. when i’m alone, i go non-verbal for a LOOOOONG time and i begin to more clearly locate the voices of support in the environment around me
— the trees, rivers, birds and bugs, the foundation of the building, god, the memory of those who’ve been here before, whatever well-meaning guides present in the moment.
relationally too, i prefer to talk through knowing looks, honest emotional expression, or flat out fucking telepathy. what a dream it is to commune with others AS the hermit, rather than the sweetie pie, kind-hearted, social butterfly mask i’ve perfected. in that reality, i can more clearly attune to energetic communication that travels beyond my rational mind into the depths of my feeling body — body language, affirming physical touch, the quality of another’s breath.
another fundamental truth? without fail, there always comes a point in my solo time, that i begin to vocalize again. i’ll laugh out loud at my own thoughts, narrate what i’m doing as a grounding anchor to the present moment, sing tunes that cross my heart, reach out to a friend to catch up. when my voice naturally returns, i trust myself to re-emerge and hold myself and those around me with care at the same time.
my voice, fixed air sign that i am, IS my own water bearer. the one who holds ME in all that i am. who can externalize what is happening within, often before it’s even conscious to me — for better or for worse chile. sometimes it be a little “speak before you think” up in here and i’m learning to be okay with that too. this is my process right now and i’m okay with cleaning up messes when i make them.
ugh, but what if it’s still just true that i care for myself better when i’m alone?!
when i’m alone with myself, i am at lesser risk of defaulting to roles or patterns that i can take on unconsciously in relationship. y’all … i care a whole lot about a whole lot. there’s really something to be said for learning to not give a fuck. not caring can feel dangerous to my body, but bro, let’s be real…
🗣️🗣️ i cause harm when i overcommit my care beyond my priorities or responsibility.
i do.
i’ve observed myself do it enough now to see that it’s an easy portal for enabling, coddling, rescuing, infantilizing grown ass people who i would much rather trust to ask for the precise care they need when they need it.
i theorize that my work right now is learning to trust that in my quiet, i can hear YOUR voice more clearly too. (god, i want to trust that the people in my life will share with me!)
a truer truth: i care for myself better when i am listening.
and let’s never forget *ari lennox voice* oh my godddddd, i need peopleeeee!
i accept that both solitude AND my loved ones are important to me. this is the yin and yang of my life.
one one hand, having adequate space and time to know, love and nurture myself deeply and without interruption supports my capacity to be present to another.
on the other, my friends and lovers OFTEN see, love and choose me deeper than i can offer to myself, reminding me of who i am simply through their choice to love me. 🥹
i am included in my list of my beloveds with whom i share deep care.
if i were in front of a yoga class, you’d hear me say something about how the breath reminds us of our innate capacity to balance giving and receiving. how with every inhale through cow pose, we allow our hearts to shine forward and with every exhale through cat pose, we draw our hearts back into the protection of our own bodies. that finding harmony between offering ourselves to ourselves and to our collective is heart medicine.
these are things i believe!
i believe that my days of reading minds and anticipating others’ needs are over.
i believe that my relationships have adequate space to share our needs honestly.
i believe that our commitments to ourselves nourish our relational abundance.
i believe that others know their care needs much better than i do.
i believe that there is softness available to us in our vulnerability.
i believe that i’ll always find my way back to myself, should i get lost.
i believe in the mutual pacing we co-create to share our intimate care details.
i believe that we all are cared for when we all share what we have.
i believe that even when we are alone, we are never truly alone.
i believe.
god, help me with my disbelief.
🙏🏽🧸✂️⛓️🧚🏽❤️🔥🐚🌱🔄🦶🏽🔋🫂🪬
until next time, i wish you deep care 🍯
honey