Pressuring Myself

Living gratefully today, I am noticing some achy muscles and appreciating the walking and running I am able to do.

In the last week a couple of my posts here, one a guest post from my blogging friend Nancy, mentioned how I don't pressure others to be grateful. I hope that is how others see me. There is someone I pressure quite a bit in a variety of ways though. Me. What matters most is how I see myself. 

It's not so much that I pressure myself to be grateful. I have practiced enough that I acknowledge the ebbs and flows of living gratefully. I lean into what the present is offering more readily than I ever have before. Sometimes that is a warm and peaceful feeling, and sometimes it is a painful, uncomfortable one. Often, it is somewhere between the two.

Gratitude ebbs and flows. Life's ups and downs come and go. I often accept circumstances beyond my control more readily than I accept the person I do have some control over. Me again. My thoughts and actions. My talents and shortcomings. My dichotomous ego. 

Some pressure is needed. Not all stress is bad. Without healthy stress, we wouldn't get out of bed each day or keep breathing each moment. It becomes detrimental when it becomes rigid. I have to do this. . .  I must get that done . . . I can't skip today . . . 

It becomes dangerous when I pressure myself right into exhaustion and denial. When I see my actions as healthy when they are actually unhealthy. When I grab on to thoughts that I would be far better letting go. 

I am 55 years old and just learning some of this about myself. Self-compassion and self-forgiveness are fairly new territory for me. There is far less pressure in this new place. Plenty to learn. Plenty to love. Plenty less constraint. 

Consider the pressure you put on yourself. Which is healthy? Which is not? What matters most? These are questions I ask myself more often and answer more kindly than ever before.