Bees, Bare Feet, and Loving Yourself

On self-love

“Don’t you mean, ‘how’?” asked mouse.

“No,” replied bee, “you really are perfect just who you are.”

…
Stabile: The Primary
…

I saw her first. Then, I felt her wings against my skin.

I was sitting in the backyard this afternoon, writing.

Trying to work out on paper who I am, who I really want to be.

Do you ever find yourself sighing a lot? Where you realize your breaths are coming as questions, rather than statements?

Like you could never possibly breathe deeply enough?

That was me as I scribbled down a list of resurfaced priorities, values, and goals.

“What must be wrong with me,” I thought, “that these things I’ve identified as important are still on the list, year after year?”

Another sigh.

And that’s when she came.

Ever since I had to euthanize my cat Buddy, I’ve been changed. Seeing and feeling how his life extinguished so immediately, so decidedly, profoundly marked me in ways I am still processing.

One of those ways may sound strange: I can’t kill bugs. I’m learning to coexist with them. And it’s been a process. Inclinations to squash, smash, and swat away feel instinctive, rather than learned.

So when she flitted in from the periphery, I was happy that I simply sat still. And watched.

A honeybee.

She flew the length of my left arm, so close I could feel the air from her wings. Inhale.

She circled round and did the same on the right, so close I could hear the beat. Exhale.

She repeated this three times, before dipping down to fly over my bare feet, and off into the yard beyond.

I’ve lived a lifetime thinking something was missing from who I am, that something was wrong with who I am, that if I only did x or y, I’d be better, more lovable, happier.

Those inclinations to squash, smash, and swat away who you actually are for the idea of who you are supposed to be also feel instinctive rather than learned, don’t they?

In that honeybee moment, however, something changed.

My list of what was missing and what I needed to do to be better, more lovable, happier turned into a list of who I actually am. And what I love about me.

And it’s made all the difference.

What might a list of the things you love about yourself look like?