I was on a call this morning. It was really really early in the morning and the person we were waiting for didn’t realize the time had changed (he was in europe where the time hasn’t changed yet) and so he didn’t show up. Instead of hanging up, two of us stayed back and started talking about my values.

She asked me what I would need the most in the world and I said only my kids and my husband. I have faith that if we’re together, we can figure out the rest. And then we started talking about more second-level stuff. Like what would I want assuming I had my family, shelter, food, etc. I said books. Books have been an integral part of my life for as long as I could read.

That’s over 35 years.

She asked me what it is about books that I like. At first it was the typical stuff: learning, the escape, the stories, etc.

But then I realized it’s not that at all.

I like books because they give me a sense of belonging.

When I am reading, I don’t ever doubt my place in the world. Books don’t reject me. It’s a place that waits for me and accepts me no matter what. I can read on a good day, on a bad day, and every day in between. I don’t ever have to doubt myself, what I say, what I look like, what I worry about. The books are always there and they create a space for me that’s mine.

Without judgement.

I know it’s not like friends or family. And I am not comparing. I am just saying that books are so much more than an escape for me. They are not a fun past time. They are not simply a tool to learn. They are not silly. They are not something to do on the beach. They are not even just a path to sanity and quiet.

They are my place of belonging in the world.

And, for that, I am wildly grateful.

After reading about it on Ali’s blog, I went to read this interview with Katrina Kennison. And there’s so much good there but this one section resonated with me above all:

As he placed my beads into my palm, he looked into my eyes with such pure loving acceptance and acknowledgement that my own eyes immediately filled with tears. It is a powerful experience, to be seen and loved in that way. And in that moment I realized that perhaps I could make that kind of love my own offering in the world as well. It was definitely an “ah-ha” moment, because it made me see that life didn’t have to be as complicated as I made it out to be; that in any given moment, or whenever I felt confused or unsure, I could just choose the loving gesture, the loving word, the loving path.

This is hard to explain in just a few words, but I will say, learning to pause and ask myself the question, “What is the loving thing to do here?” has given me a new assurance.  It helps me to see when I’m reacting out of fear, and to choose love instead.  It has made me at once more courageous and softer,  more confident and less attached to being right.  I don’t have to be right; it is enough to be loving.

It’s enough to be loving.

I love that idea. I love love love it. I love it because, for me, it means I don’t have to work so much. It means I don’t have to fight and stress and worry. It means I don’t have to struggle so hard. This sort of made me think about my self-kindness goal for March and how it’s about doing the loving thing for myself.

And while it’s magnificent for me and for my way of thinking, it’s incredibly powerful when approaching the world and others. I had a long and struggling day on Friday. I came into a call with a lot of energy and optimism and felt completely deflated, confused and small by the end of it. Whenever I am in these situations, I feel a strong sense of overwhelming sorrow. Sometimes when I am really sick, I can’t remember how it felt to be well. It’s like being sick consumes me and even though intellectually I know it will go away eventually, emotionally I can’t remember how being well felt. This is how I felt after the call. Like I would never be well again. Like I should just give up on this particular goal and stop the pain of learning/growing/struggling right now.

I knew this was coming (even though a small part of me wished I was wrong, of course.)

And I am trying to let myself feel it and sit with it and learn from it and not run in the other direction. Not take the easy route.

But reading this passage made me think. What would be the loving thing here? How could I approach the whole situation in a loving way? Here are some ideas that came to mind:

• I could be loving to myself and allow myself to acknowledge the hurt and that learning something new can be a struggle and being judged and graded can be tough. I can give myself kindness, love, and a hug
• I can be loving towards the other person and assume they are committed to my growth and learning and want me to be the best version of myself
• I can choose the loving path here and be grateful for all the learning and love the opportunity to get it one-on-one
• I can choose to love the process of growing and learning
• I can remember that I am still at the beginning of this path and i have forever to get it “right”
• I can love the process and not focus on the outcome
• I can assume the other person loves me and i love them and we both love the process and we’re both invested in my improvement.

And when I list all those, I feel lucky, blessed and grateful. Grateful that I have “time” to get it “right”. Grateful that there are people who will take time and effort out of their own lives to help me improve. Grateful that I am still choosing to learn new things and improve myself.

And, above all, grateful for this new perspective.