Saying a ‘Self-Centred Yes’ in a world that couldn’t care less.
Image by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash
She Who Knows
A poem commissioned for the SOULACY SELF CARE Special, Oct 2021
Over time
I’ve befriended that part of me
That is pure permission.
The essence of ‘yes.’
I call her ‘She Who Knows.’
When I’m lost…
…wrecked, usually…
She says Reassuringly Sensible Things
that are balm to my soul…
Yes, get some rest.
I agree. Clear your schedule. Go for a walk.
Put that down. It’ll be here when you get back.
Reach out for help. You’ll be glad you did.
Please, tend to your aching back.
Please, tend to your aching heart.
Please, let the aching world do its aching thing awhile
While you tend to YOU.
The longer we conspire,
The more insistent and absolute Her yeses became…
Pack your bags, it’s time for a weekend off.
Jump in the lake, your body will thank you.
Damn straight you’re saying ‘no’ to this.. Thank me later.
No, you don’t have to speak to them again. Not a moment before they re-earn your trust.
Let’s dance and drink and sing!
Let’s cry and scream and wail!
Please guard yourself like the Sovereign you are, and anyone with something to say can
FUCK
RIGHT
OFF!
At times I find myself Committed Elsewhere.
So tangled up in half-arsed ‘yeses’ to others,
Each one a silent ‘no’ to myself,
And we lose touch for a while.
Sometimes she has no choice but to
Wrench me
From the altar
Of my latest sacrifices
And forces me to bed.
‘You know,’ She murmurs into my pillow,
‘We’ve been through this…
You really don’t need to down poison to prove your worth.’
Somehow, I always find my way back to her…
an old post-it note…
an echo in a friend’s voice…
a child splashing in the lake…
I’m filled with longing for Her wild wisdom.
The way She shows me how worthy I really am
As only She can.
And when I let her,
She Who Knows reminds me every time…
'Self care is the practice of permission.
Offer yourself a Self-Centred ‘Yes’
In a world that couldn’t care less.'
