A Quote by Brian Andreas
There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling leaves and remember that it is enough to be taken care of by myself.
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Using phrases or mantras to encourage and comfort myself has been a powerful practice for me. For years, I would say to myself 'Remember the purple sky' when I was feeling anxious, which to me meant remember a sense of internal spaciousness and kindness toward myself.
I remember when I was a private soldier. I remember the days when I was taken care of and when I was not taken care of.
Sometimes when I am alone in my room in the dark, I practice smiling to myself. I do this to be kind to myself, to take good care of myself, to love myself. I know that if I cannot take care of myself, I cannot take care of anyone else.
I feel more and more like 'myself' these days. Before becoming a father, I can remember a low-level feeling of somehow not quite being myself.
When I have struggled with things like being Bruce Lee's daughter, it's his words that have guided me: his words that said that I just need to have faith in myself, believe in myself, and express myself.
And the seriousness with which the other party takes my words always raises the doubt whether I have taken them seriously enough myself.
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
Above all, I feel a quiet pride that for the rest of my days I can look at myself in the mirror and know that once upon a time I was good enough. Good enough to call myself a member of the SAS. Some things don’t have a price tag.
If I don't take care of myself and be kind to myself, then I can't take care of anyone else. I think when my son was a baby I got used to not getting enough sleep, rushing and skipping meals, and feeling tired a lot of the time.
I feel like, with myself, I ruined myself to the point where I wasn't functional enough to work for anybody, even myself. I wasn't working.
I myself, a professional mathematician, on re-reading my own work find it strains my mental powers to recall to mind from the figures the meanings of the demonstrations, meanings which I myself originally put into the figures and the text from my mind. But when I attempt to remedy the obscurity of the material by putting in extra words, I see myself falling into the opposite fault of becoming chatty in something mathematical.
Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and I can picture it after all these days.
I have to take care of myself in order to live life the way I want to. It's important to have rest days. But in the long run, if I don't work out for, like, three days, I feel worse, not better.
Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.
I could see how easy it would be to fall into loving Bella. It would be exactly like falling: effortless. Not letting myself love her was the opposite of falling—it was pulling myself up a cliff-face, hand over hand, the task as grueling as if I had no more than mortal strength.
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