Living Metaphors: SELF MATTERS
First Publication: SHE Caribbean Winter 2010
Joanne Gail Johnson
780 words
“Please secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others.”
The familiar “In Case of Emergency” flight attendant’s announcement. is a relatively modern phrase. As a living metaphor it is often used to express an individual need for legitimate self care. The greater wisdom is all but lost when applied with a “Once I get mine, you can get yours” attitude. Self care is supposed to ease our tensions after all, so it’s a no-brainer to see that referring to an unspoken rule of “me or them”in daily life, will only accrue stressful conflicts. Our in-flight wisdom after all, was originally intended for life or death situations.
Intuitively we reach in this direction because we know that relationship with the self lies at the core of every other relationship. When we say a woman takes good care herself however, we usually mean in the context of cosmetic beauty, fashion and spa rituals: i.e. the cherries on top, not the sustenance of life.
I once read a beautiful contemplation: On becoming a woman the author, experienced the fulfillment of her femininity through recognising that her helpfulness was more relevant to her happiness than being decorative. We are taught it since birth. A “good woman” is one who constantly serves others and denies herself. But even the best intentions may be an effort to disguise self loathing; to earn approval that masks low self esteem; and works of charity may temporarily pacify guilty or undeserving feelings about the luxuries and privileges we do enjoy.
A wise friend recently pointed out, “Being overtly selfless could actually hide a selfish desire to be (or look) better than the other person. The simplest form this took (in our family) was when a plate of varied cakes was on the table it was a constant "You choose", "No, you choose", which entirely spoiled the occasion. I found it so liberating when I met my husband’s family who would say "I'd like that one, please"!”
Being unable to trust ourselves to give and receive in a balanced way can induce financial, physical and emotional exhaustion, as with any other indulgence. So how do we discern the difference between self care and the selfish extravagance which often induces both legitimate and unnecessary guilt?
Mother Theresa is quoted as saying we can do not great things only small things with great love. And an old Zen Master has said, “Before enlightenment, chop wood carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood carry water.” In different words, they both point to the god of small things.
As a mother I am finding myself constantly called to honor my goddess of the mundane. Everyday chores and household management require no end of attention to seemingly insignificant details: that little plastic dinosaur poking out from under the couch, the bit of plasticine stuck to the tooth brush before it goes into someone’s mouth. There is an excuse everyday to justify a dash out to the spa; at every turn an exasperation to warrant self pity and a new dress. But how do we choose ourselves without shattering future financial goals and love relationships? And can’t we perform our necessary duties in the presence of grace and without being mean to or stingy with ourselves?
In Focaults Askeisis: an introduction to the philosophical life, by Edward F. Mc Gushin self care is referred to as an art of governance; and “the right, the capacity, the duty , the privilege, and the art of governing others are founded upon the proper government of oneself.” This clarity reminds us to put our essential human need for the deep nurturing of our inner lives at the top of our to do lists. Such self care may not be easily learned or taught , yet may be innate.
During pregnancy, I recall how easy it was to attend to my body temple with reverence and respect. Taking care of myself at that time was symbiotic with taking care of another human being. Service to self and service to others are not contradictory ideas. As we grow healthier, happier, stronger and more organised, our relationships improve and the quality of our giving to others is untainted by secret resentments. We no longer find ourselves ragged from constantly tapping into our reserve supplies; well, except in that rare case of an emergency. Rather, we begin to give from excess.
I am finding the more healthful metaphors about appropriate self care are feminine in nature: overflowing fountains; a heavy laden mango tree with fruit for all, that rests out of season and then bursts to life again; and the most intimate and accurate - the knowledge of the pregnant body, when self and other are immaculately one.
