The last few days I have been very selfconcious…too conscious I would like to say…about my body. You know these days when you look into a mirror going like…oh is this a grey hair…do I get wrinkles…I should do my eyebrows…whatsoever …days when you go into the shower and suddenly out of nowhere this thought kicks in…oh i gained weight…i should do more sports…i should do this and that and it goes on and on…you just realize you not perfect and never will…it does bother you…you get scared…frustrated…insecure…
Then today …I sat in that room of obe of our residents to read some australian poetry for her. She is in the end stadium of parkinson and the doctors told her and her husband that there is no need to come to hospital anymore. Nothing else they can do. I could see the tears in the husbands eyes…saying…of course I knew this day would come…but after 20 years..it finally has arrived…and it hurts.
I asked him if there is anything I could do for his wife to make her happy…if she likes any books or music. He looks at me and smiles “Oh yes, she loves australian poetry…if you want to read some poetry to her”.
“Yes i want and i will.”
Today I enter the room it smells like a fragrance of lemon and sandlewood. The lady lies crumbled up in her bed and seems to be asleep. I take a seat and look around. I see pictures of her marriage…how young and strong she once was. I wondered if she ever knew that she would get parkinson? Would things have been different for her?
Suddenly she opens her eyes and smiles at me. I take one of the poetry books and start reading…telling stories from bushmen and sunsets…people on horses…and drunk shearers running after their dreams. I feel pictures forming in front of me…i feel my voice changing…reading one poem after another. While I read…the lady looks at me.
“I can see these words forming a world in front of me. Like scenes in a movie. It is sooo beautiful” i say.
The lady takes a deep breath: ” Yes…I know…it is sooo beautiful.”
After a while she falls back asleep…I remember when I was a kid and my grandmother used to read me stories…and i felt asleep listening to her words.
When I leave work a friend calls who has just been travelling countries because of work. I feel the pressure…his exhaustion even he is happy that he flew business class and there were champagn for free. Telling me about this guy at the airpory who made a comment about his belly if he gained weight. Shocked and embarrased the voice in his head shouted..do more sports…you just eat shit…you should so this and that. But work drains him 5 days a week 10 hours a day. But what can you do…dreams want to be achieved…we want to go big or go home.
I think about the pressure I have…with all the things I do…working towards my dreams…telling myself one day it will pay off.
Then I walk down the corridor hand in hand with a lady who got dementia. Who told me this morning that she waited two hours for me to walk with her the corridor…that makes her happy.
I see people getting older…no matter how sporty or good looking they were. As if age would make you less worthy. Never ever I thought these people are ugly…i have compassion for their life experience…respect for who they are…and find the dignity between all of this. Their smile makes me happy…everyday.
But then I think…why am I so hard on myself? Why is it so important to be better…more beautiful…sporty…or whatsoever…
Most important why…do we so want to be different? Reminding me…where I stand with my selflove…
Today…I want to start to love myself a bit more…saying myself that I am me and that is amazing. I might be moody…angry…stressed…and im allowed to be that. There is a beauty in authencity. I just need to remind myself…
Today I will…and tomorrow…i will go a bit further…i might start…treating myself the why I treat others…with respect…compassion…and dignity…