I often include an epitaph at the end of my emails: Linda Sanchez, At Ease or Linda Sanchez, Willing to be Empty, etc., depending on what is true for me that day. One of my favorites is Linda Sanchez, A Kindly Narcissist. I love to look at myself in the mirror, I am endlessly fascinated by my own thoughts and behaviors and I generally think very, very highly of myself. A friend who knows me well recently gifted me with the plaque pictured above which lives on my windowsill. This may not qualify me for a classic Narcissist diagnosis, but it does resonate with an attention to self that can seem at odds with the compassion and empathy for others at the root of my spiritual practice. I am aware of my self-centeredness and how it plays out in my relationships and I am equally aware of my intention to be kind and expansive and compassionate. These things are at play within me at all times. And they are not at cross-purposes; they feed and nurture each other and help make me the Love Delivery System I was meant to be in this world. I may poke fun at my inner narcissist but I also respect and love her. Showing up in love with myself makes room to show up and love others.
I have a practice of writing down the things I love about myself in a journal – one gigantic bulleted love letter to me. Some of the things I write aren’t particularly or easily loveable and that makes me feel even more driven to acknowledge them and love them. Why should I just love the things that are easy to love? I find that my capacity to love the craggy, sticky, cringey things about myself, has helped make space to love the craggy, sticky, cringey things about others and about the world we share.
When I hear a critical voice within me, trying to find fault with something I have said or done or thought or believe, it is time to pull out my love letter and give that quality some love. Entries like, “I love the way you manufacture shame again and again and again,” and “I love how motivated you are by the praise of others,” and “I love how you avoid being creative for fear you will be found out as mediocre,” and “I love your spiritual arrogance,” no longer make me blush. They help me make space for what is and to offer resistance to nothing. Naming these parts of myself and embracing them instead of ignoring them gives them their space in the sun to grow and evolve. Every part of us needs this brand of sunshine. Making space for the cringey parts of me helps me fully embrace “I love your capacity to be present,” and “I love the way you respect your own pace and the pace of others,” and “I love the easy affection you feel for strangers.” As I move through this practice with kindness, the lines between my “good” and “bad” qualities have become blurred; they are all simply a part of what makes me who I am.
Please consider writing a love letter to yourself in whatever form speaks to you. Every bit of love we can offer to ourselves instantly becomes available to share with others.