“Self-care is never a selfish act – it is simply good stewardship…we do it not only for ourselves, but for the many others whose lives we touch.”
—Parker J. Palmer
 

t the Zen monastery, self-care was part of our lifestyle. We had healthy, nutritious food to eat. Clean water that we drew from our well. Physical work outside in the fresh air, often tending to the gardens where we grew our own vegetables. Time to stop and meditate. A forum to process our insights and seek guidance. Plenty of sleep at night after being thoroughly worn out.

Nothing was missing.

Even when we senior monks were eventually spending more time doing administrative work behind our computers, we shifted priorities to include yoga classes after the schedule. The four of us would head to the kitchen after meditation, pack our dinners into Tupperware containers, and shuttle off into town where our yoga instructor held a class for the community.

My teacher was a wonderful role model for us in self-care. She was a powerhouse of a woman. I had never met anyone who had so many projects and made so much of an impact on the lives of others as she did. Yet even amidst all of the work she was doing offering practice to the world, she would come to the monastery to dig trenches, chainsaw fallen trees, and build hermitages alongside us monks who were half her age. She was always clear that we needed to “care for the goose that laid the golden eggs.” We were there at the monastery to serve; and to serve most effectively, it was important for us to be clear, focused, fit, ready, and full of energy. We were the ones who were going to be passing on the practice to those who followed her.

She taught us that we were stewards of our bodies and minds. Self-care was a way of showing respect for this holy vessel that supported us in all of our endeavors. It would be selfish to listen to any voice that would have us believe otherwise.