A Sobering Lesson in How to Feel Like You are Enough (or at least starting the journey)
“How often do you look at your steps tracker while walking?”
…..Oooh, this question delivered a big boot kick in my gut. My therapist asked it in the kindest, most enfolding way, but it sent me reeling.
I recently started walking more, particularly in the morning before my day started. I love the feeling of my body getting more energized before I do anything else.
Her harmless question evoked a slightly unequal reply on my part….I wanted to flat-out punch her.
Hmmmm….Interesting reaction.
I realized that, despite my supposedly joy-filled walks, I was getting increasingly driven and compulsive….AGAIN. On the last mile of the walk that morning, I checked my steps and distance multiple times within every fifteen minutes of the iPhone refresh. I literally had a hard time stopping myself.
My life is filled with people I would describe as really driven, so in comparison, I don’t characterize myself that way. But her question was giving me an uncomfortable peek into my psyche.
Our conversation continued with her next question floating toward me like a raft on a lazy river. ”What if you don’t look at your steps/mileage at all during your walk?”
WHAT?!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT. Nope. Can’t picture it. Can’t fathom it. Can’t see it.
By the way, I’m not doing the marathon running walk thing. I listen to uplifting books; I send prayers to people; I say kind words to myself. So why the big reaction to the little question?
Then it hit me. 🤯 I realized that these self-care activities–walking, exercising, eating well, going to the dentist or doctor–were like ruler slaps to my fingers. These activities, from my perspective, were punishments to get me back in line.
Back in line from what? Not being ENOUGH as I am.
I need to eat well, walk, exercise, or visit a doctor BECAUSE I’m too out of shape, too unhealthy, too big, too old, too…
My self-care was punishment for not being ENOUGH of something unreachable, unattainable. Even if I got to the point of better, I’d move the goalpost down the field. I have done this for years.
In my world, if I walk, I can’t just walk. I can’t walk a lot today and a little tomorrow. I can’t walk and not measure it. I can’t tune into my body to see if I’m enjoying myself.
Sheer insanity but complete reality.
But what if I can shift this reality? What if a walk could become a walk?
The jury is still out, but I am accepting her invitation to give it a whirl.
I did one walk, and I didn’t look (let’s get real..I definitely looked but not until I was done!)
Is it self-care yet? Nope.
Is it pure pleasure? Not yet.
I still found some version of the measuring stick in my head, but I let go of a little of the drivenness for a short time. (38 minutes, to be exact, but who is counting?)
