In the last two months, I’ve started practicing yoga every weekday, have meditated daily, and cook almost every meal (dairy-free and semi-vegetarian).
What’s funny is that I used to think I hated cooking. I struggled to maintain a meditation practice that didn’t also give me a dopamine hit for maintaining a streak on some app. And I hated the thought of yoga because I never felt strong enough to hold downward dog for more than 10 seconds without falling on my face.
What’s changed?
The short answer is nothing. And everything. Because truly, the me now and the me that didn’t have such seemingly healthy habits is the same person (albeit maybe slightly calmer). Yet I’ve managed to do something many researchers say is extremely difficult: adult behavioral change. And in no way shape or form does it feel difficult, like I’m forcing myself, or like I have to bribe myself with a hefty pile of honeyed biscuits when I’m done.
How did I pull off such a feat?
By opening up to the idea of loving myself exactly as I am even if nothing changes. Because when I love myself exactly as I am, when I spend time feeling into this body I have, I actually want to take care of it, to meditate, do yoga, and pay attention to what I’m putting my digestive system through.
Not that I’m telling you what to do. And not that I’m perfect at any of this. But something bout loving myself makes everything everyone tells you you should do “because it’s good for you” easier.
I haven’t yet figured out what that looks like for writing (and how to cultivate that habit without torture and mind games), but at least I’m no longer spending each down dog secretly in child’s pose.