It’s a baby!

Routines are so intense. I’ve always lived pretty squarely in the adhd Venn diagram section called “routines are not possible”.

But I’ve noticed a pattern in my lifelong process of coming in and out of self care, and other practices that make me feel more alive.

Drinking water.

Writing.

Sleeping 9p to 5a.

Being of service.

Listening to my body and my parts.

Stretching and meditating in the morning.

Giving and receiving with ease in my community.

Making art.

Holding my needs like a newborn baby.

The rhythm over time of getting better at tending to this little baby in me, [Every. Day.] who only has needs and is so small, but so powerful that everything in me wants to stop what I’m doing stare warmly and unblinkingly at her. Forever?

When I can really see it that way, all my parts soften, and feel pulled to be a safe and nurturing space for this baby. The direness and tension of things give way to the gentleness needed to hold her.

I want to stretch, be accountable, clean my space, and coo sweetly at the purring cat outside my trailer for her. And forgive everyone I’ve ever been mad at. And forgive myself for every unkind thing I’ve said about my body.

I want to be authentically me for her (who is also me). I want to not be ashamed to be all of me. I want to make sexy faces at selfies that are just for me. And put them in a folder labeled “my nudes that are just for me”. Next to the one called nudes for other people. I want people who receive pictures of my body to be the kind of people whose jaws drop when they see me naked.

I want to remember that when I feel alive I can come to my mat.

And I when don’t want to feel alive at all.

And when I can’t do anything else.

And when I can’t even do that.

I can always come to my mat.

And in my constant search for what home means to me, that last bit felt like a working definition. Which brings the kind of comfort to me that I likely couldn’t explain. Which is what I say sometimes when I don’t want to try.

But this practice today is reminding me after I’ve lost myself to worry. Or neglected myself out of shame. Or pedestalized someone else so they would take care of me because I’m scared I don’t know how to some days, instead of showing up for myself because I am so curious about this new little baby, and I want to learn everything about her care.

*This* whole practice of being alive is shaping up to be a pretty cool routine.

And I’m almost proud of it just as it is.