Each day
you pack your compassion
and bring it with you
as you venture out in service.
You bestow it
on each person in your path,
and leave some behind
for those who travel in your wake.
You bring your medicine
to all who surround you.
You shower them
with an abundance of care.
And at the end of the day,
you retreat, depleted and defeated
searching for scraps to spare for yourself
resentful that you gave it all away.
Why do you settle like this?
Surely your magnanimous heart
is capable of giving to one more person —
the one who looks at you longingly in the mirror
asking, “but what about me?”
What must you believe
to know that the person in the mirror
is as worthy of your compassion
as every stranger on the street?
What must you remember
to grant yourself permission
to love yourself first
before sharing your love with the world?
Your worthiness
of your own love and care
is not dependent
on how much you serve others.
Self-compassion
is not the reward
for a job well-done.
It is the foundation
for your service.
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