Holidays! Be gone! Never return! Except I do like holidays. Sometimes. I bet I would like them and everything in the world a lot more if I was nice to myself. Notice I didn't say "nicer"? Because one must first be nice in order to be nicer. I'm working on it. One step forward, a huge gigantic slide back. This whole self-compassion thing is like a game of Chutes and Ladders and I keep having bad luck with the dice. Roll 'em, baby. ROLL WITH THE PUNCHES, Tootsie. Tootsie Roll.
Do you know that I keep a bag of Tootsie Rolls in my purse to give to children on the playground? Like, take candy from me, kids! I'm a stranger! Except I am not a stranger and I don't actually give the candy out that often, just if a child gets hurt. And it has to be a real injury, not these tiny scrapes and bruises life gives us at every turn. The kids go up the ladder and down the slide and sometimes the results are disappointing, but they just get back up on that ladder and keep playing. Why? Because they are curious. They forget the falls and tumbles and remember the ecstasy of the swing. They remember the dandelions in the field where fairies live. It isn't a weed, it is shelter. And under the sky they are free. Under the sky they see the clouds and with the help of the swing they fly right to the top and search for hidden treasure, for adventure, for the magic that awaits. Except they never have to actually make it to the clouds. The magic doesn't wait, it resides. It's already inside; there's no need to climb any ladders until you fall exhausted down a slide. You just stand. You just stand and allow and accept. And delight. There is a sun behind those clouds.
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