10/12/2025
Some thoughts on daily rituals and love...
I recently heard of love being referred to as a plant: something you tend to, something you nourish; love, in other words, is not a task to be completed; there is no finality.
We often think of love in its interpersonal context, but seldom do we consider what it might look like to love ourselves. What does that even mean—to love oneself? How will we know if/when we'll ever feel enough?
Well, I'm not sure it has to be that complicated. For if interpersonal love is like a plant—something tended to and ritualised—why can't self-love be the same? I think that love for oneself should emulate the ways we love those closest to us. It shouldn't be extravagant—one can't always buy the most expensive bouquet of flowers or fly to Paris.
But that's okay, because love comes down to the little things, the daily acts. It's kissing your loved one's head and telling them that you love them before they drift off to sleep; it's lifting the heavier grocery bag so they don't have to; it's sending them a love heart emoji at lunch time to let them know you're thinking of them.
In the same way, loving yourself is blocking off an extra 30 minutes for lunch; walking in nature, bathing in the sounds of the forest; it's calling a friend because their voice fills you with a sense of connection. Finally, it's doing less so that you can do more (of what actually matters). And ritualising these 'gifts' of self-love—making them a habit—keeps the plant green and strong.
If the plant isn't nourished it dies.
My gift of self-love is a near-daily ritual of drinking Keith's cacao with my wife, sitting together while we read. We hardly speak, but her presence keeps me warm.
At the moment I'm reading 'A Way of Being' by Carl Rogers, a beautiful man who did more for psychotherapy than generations of thinkers from other schools. If you've been lucky enough to experience good therapy from a competent therapist, then you indirectly have Rogers to thank.
Reading his words, hearing his voice, I'm reminded of the privilege of being a therapist, standing humbly on Rogers' shoulders. And I wish for you that you can find some way to love yourself in very small ways, day in, day out, tending to yourself like the ferns in your garden or the roses on your coffee table.
Wishing you all the best on this Wednesday.