The unselfishness of giving to oneself?

I sometimes think I am a selfish person because I don't deliberately seek out ways to serve others. In my church serving others is something that is often emphasized. We have service projects to help those in need (and I rarely participate in these). I often hear my friends say when they have been given blessings that they have been told that in order to be happy they should serve others more.

I feel like I spend a lot of my time serving me. And by this I spend a lot of my time working to grow, nurture, and otherwise improve myself.

This morning though it occurred to me that maybe improving myself *is* a way of serving others. Through improving myself I have felt my heart become more open, I have become more calm, less judgmental (I would have said in the past that I was rarely judgmental, but as Debbie Ford has said, the acronym for DENIAL is Don't Even kNow I Am Lying...opening up to the fact that I Am judgmental was the only way to becoming less judgmental), I am more present and in the moment rather than distracted or daydreaming, etc. I think by these changes of becoming a better person I am better able to serve others in small ways perhaps.

Certainly by having my heart more open rather than closed off to others I can be more loving to them.

A calm person is more soothing to be around than a frazzled one...in fact one's own nerves can become more frazzled when around a frazzled person. So perhaps I can give the gift of a calm presence, and help them discover the calm within themselves by simply being calm myself.

Another change in myself resulting from my working to improve myself is I smile more often. And maybe that smile will have an impact on somebody who is having a bad day, and so maybe in that small way I am being of service to them.

I also find it easier to talk to people in the past. In the past I was so "shy" that I often clammed up when people would try to talk to me. I still do sometimes, but less than I have in the past. And I would act uncomfortable because I was. And basically conversations were often short, abrupt, and didn't last very long. But now I feel a lot more at ease talking with people. I can actually Look at them while we are talking, instead of avoiding their gaze. And I can see how a pleasant conversation with someone can really be all that you need in that moment. A little gift that was perfect because it made you smile and feel *connected* with someone when maybe moments before you felt all alone.

I have learned in my life that sometimes the small things mean a lot. And I shouldn't be so dismissive of them. They say the flapping of a butterfly's wings can change the weather pattern in the whole world. The ability to give a smile, a kind word, a presence of calmness...all gained from focusing on one's self...is it really something I should be so dismissive of after all?

And I do have people I know who say things to me like, "You help me out in ways that you will ever know." And as I look on bewildered because I truly have know idea how I am possibly helping them, I also know that they are speaking the truth from their hearts.

So I'll continue to nurture myself and encourage myself to improve and grow...never knowing how these kind acts to myself may also end up leading to becoming kind acts to others. Maybe this form of selfishly serving myself isn't always so selfish after all.

Perhaps ideally I would also go out and do some more obvious act of serving like making a quilt for someone in need, or bake a casserole for someone who is ill, volunteer at some charity, or things like that. But at least I can also be open to seeing the small ways I serve others as well through giving to myself.

I suddenly remembered this story just now, that a friend of mine has posted on her profile of one of those social community websites, and is also often passed around through email.

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. 'I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.' The old woman smiled, 'Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?' 'That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.' 'For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.' Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them. SO, to all of my crackpot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

So I need to remember that I am a crackpot as well and to appreciate the flowers on my side of the path as well.

photo by jellofishy