So, I’ve been sick.
The mother of all colds. Poor me. Waah.
It’s been humbling and kind of nice to not have any energy and have nothing to do but watch bad tv and sleep (off and on) while the vaporizer gurgles and fills the room with that lovely Vicks-sickroom-smell. I go back to my childhood every time. Really. I become very immature, very needy, very cranky and, as a result, ironically, I very much want to be alone. Don’t want someone constantly asking how I’m doing, don’t want to be babied, don’t want to have someone make me tea and toast or bring me books or, well, anything.
However, as I’ve matured, I’ve learned to allow others to do those things for me. I allow, but it’s certainly not second nature- I doubt if I’ll get to the level of encouraging anyone to take care of me.
But it’s a start.
As a person who’s always taking care of someone else, it goes to credibility if I can’t allow myself to be taken care of by others. Plus, it’s just good dharma to learn how to receive.
Even if it makes me feel like a baby.