Over the past several years, I have returned again and again to the uniting idea that the manner in which I care for my body is the manner in which I care for the earth. (It initially came to me during my writing process of The Girl Who Listened with the Soles of her Feet). This concept dissolved the dichotomy I often bought into between self-care and planet care, between human needs and ecosystem preservation.

I write this as someone who struggles personally with trying to be a hero, and who takes climate activism very seriously. (Someone, hand me my soap box, STAT!) And yet I have learned again and again—sometimes by running myself into the ground in a flurry of earnest and idealistic striving—that I cannot be of service if I do not first attend to my own needs. And within that, caring for my body in a consistent, loving, and non-judgmental way has been the biggest growing edge for me.

So why is it so hard to prioritize self-care? The thing about bodies is they have limits. They get hungry and tired. They get sore. They can also be sweaty and smelly, or can have embarrassing or unsettling urges. Bodies are full of inconveniences and they bring us discomforts on a variety of levels, not to mention the fact that they are vulnerable. Our bodies can be judged or criticized. They can be accepted or rejected by others. They can be hurt. Our bodies can get sick. They grow old and wrinkled. Our bodies die.

I believe that part of our environmental crisis is that we as human beings don’t want to have limits, and our minds seek to master and harness the earth and her resources in the same way that we try to master our own limits and vulnerabilities. (I recognize that this is a broader theme that deserves greater exploration, but bear with me). I posit that if I approach my stewardship of the earth from this anxiety-based place of saving the planet, and in so doing I override my own physical needs for rest, nourishment, movement outdoors in the fresh air and sunlight, that I am not actually making the contribution I want to. So long as I am framing “the planet” or “the environment” as something outside of myself that I must heroically save, I am missing the bigger picture.

I believe that when I pursue any kind of service work from this place of self-negating martyrdom, I am avoiding something. Here’s a hint: it’s usually something that feels vulnerable to me, and it usually has to do with my earliest and most foundational fears. (Ooh, fun!) When I find myself rushing off into the wider world to “save” others, or “save” the planet, I am getting better at catching myself sooner and coming back to center. This way, I can take care of my foundation first and then be of service from a healthy, integrated place.

Food for Thought:

1. What is one thing you resist about your body? For the next week, I ask that you be with this part of yourself in a new and more compassionate way.
2. Catch yourself in a moment of stress and take a pause. It doesn’t have to be more than 30 seconds, but bring your awareness to the experience of stress in your body so that you are catching yourself in the act: “Okay, this is how stress feels in my body.” During your pause, breathe deeply into your belly and see if you can be with yourself in a new way as you experience the stress.
3. What’s one item on your To Do list that has been weighing on you? Take one small action this week on that one item. And then find a way to celebrate!