Au Revoir and Thank You, Faywood

Sun setting over Faywood Hot Springs

Our plan was to leave Faywood Hot Springs on Saturday, Jan. 23 to head for a hotel in Arizona but a work emergency changed those plans.  Instead, we packed up a bit on Saturday, spent the night in a cabin at Faywood that night, finished packing on Sunday, and hit the road around mid day.  We were there long enough that it had started to feel like home.  Now, a few days later, I miss everything about it.

I'm especially sad to leave because I'd just discovered the trails that lead out the back gate beyond the camp sites.  I'd hesitated to do much hiking because I hadn't found any trails and untracked desert is tough on a dog's paws.  But a few days before we were to leave, I found the track of an old road that led to multiple trails that led off into the desert.

One evening when i went out for a walk (without the dog), the cattle all headed down the hill toward me.  I couldn't tell if they were headed for me or I just happened to be close to their path back toward their pens.  I was torn: stay and take pictures, or get the hell out of their way in case they were headed toward me.  I took a gamble that they were headed home, I'd heard one of the herd members back at the pen lowing to ask where they were and one of them responding, so I assumed that they were headed toward her and home.  Most of them were females with their several-month-old offspring and none of them seemed threatened by me, just curious and cautiously aware.  About twenty five feet from me, their path veered away and I mostly relaxed.  Except when they would turn their heads to check me out as they filed by. 

I was ready to make a quick escape through the nearby fence if necessary.  Some were more curious than others. 

 

The moon was getting full and for the last few nights at Faywood, the moon rises were stunning. 

Moon rising behind mesquite

There was a whole lot of beautiful at that place.  I experienced a lot of emotional growth while we were there.  The tranquility and the wildness and the friendliness of everyone we met, along with being nude in semi-public under the sun and the stars--these things thawed something in me.  I also walked a lot around the hot springs compound perimeter with the dog, and used this as an opportunity for walking meditations.   Two personal mantras came to me while walking:  open (myself to others) and be kind (to myself).  While we were there, one of the books I was reading was The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion. 

While I've never had a problem being compassionate toward others (too much compassion is generally my issue), I've always been wary of the concept of self-compassion because I regarded it as a way to excuse and disregard any of my shortcomings.  I always thought:  I know myself too well to have compassion for myself--I know what's wrong with me.


Similarly, I would always give a sideways eye when I heard people talk about self-love.  To me, love is something that is earned (not through work, but by being a particular kind of person), not just granted willy-nilly.  I don't just love random people, I need to understand them first and see what about them that is deserving of love.  Accordingly, I don't love myself, because I don't deserve love, given what I know about my personal shortcomings. 

I had a revelation at Faywood, though.  I realized that the people I love do have shortcomings of course, and I accept these and I can transfer this kind of love to myself.  In a sense, these shortcomings are part of who they and I are, they make us unique. I certainly don't withhold my love and compassion until someone has become perfect.  I don't even know what perfect would mean, with respect to a person. 

Similarly, loving myself doesn't have to mean that I don't have weaknesses  or that I always behave in the way that I think I should.  It can mean that I understand myself, with my strengths and my shortcomings, my imperfections and personal challenges, and that with this awareness, I can feel love and compassion for myself.  It doesn't exempt me from trying to become a better person or necessitate that I overlook that I've done things in my life that I regret.  I can accept myself as I am here and now, and tell myself that I understand who I am, that it sucks that some bad things have happened to me, that I'm okay and deserving of compassion and love as I am here and now, and that I'll be kind to myself as I confront the challenges in my life.

Relatedly, I don't have to become a better person before I open myself up to others.  I can be the person that I am, unique, struggling, kind, moody, introspective and sometimes awkward, and let others see me that way. I don't have to hide myself and keep my quirky self locked away and only reveal it to others who are like me.  I can open up, ask questions, make observations, and do it with people who may not share my worldview and my character.  We may have points of intersection, and opening up will allow us to find them or to perhaps learn from the differences.  I don't have to be so cautious.

I have done enough self-analysis in the last year to begin to understand where that caution comes from.  And I'm coming to understand it in a much more sympathetic way.   I've always detested myself for having it, and I misunderstood it.  But now I can see that it's something for which I can have compassion toward myself.  I see that I can acknowledge the feeling of being cautious and of disliking the feeling of being cautious, I can accept that  this feels really horrible, and then I can have compassion for myself for having these feelings.  I can love myself, not in spite of this, but because of it.  I can see how that caution is an adaptive strength that does not always serve me well now.  I can see how it's possible for me accept that I have this attribute while at the same time, I work toward opening myself up toward others. 

 In retrospect, these things are a great big no-duh.  But they were major realizations for me.  I'm thankful that I had a month at Faywood to learn them.

Postscript:  This concept, of having love and compassion for one's self even as one knows one's own weaknesses, reminds me a lot of Dan Savage's concept of the price of admission.  Savage says that in any long-term relationship, if it's to succeed, we have to accept that just are there are things about our partner that we love and embrace, that person will also have shortcomings and attributes that we will not see as positive.  There is no one person that is perfect for us in every little thing.  

His point is not so much that there are lots of people out there that we could be compatible with (which is how I first understood him), it is rather, that everyone has flaws and in a satisfying relationship, we will accept our partner as he or she is; we will love them in a way that is honest with both ourselves and with them.   

I think this can be applied to the long-term relationship we can have with ourselves.  In a healthy, honest relationship with ourselves, we accept our strengths and acknowledge our weaknesses.   In this kind of relationship, we don't withhold our compassion and love for ourselves until we are the person we aspire to be, or use this withholding as a motivational tool to become a better person.  We acknowledge our strengths and our failings, and are able to have love and compassion for ourselves as we are now.

You can watch Dan Savage's video, The Price of Admission, here: