Carlos Fentanes

My mother flew back to Guadalajara yesterday with my brother (who returned to Boston after) and a nurse. She’s getting worse, and I feel that being alone now—with only paid caregivers, while her three sons live scattered across North America—will not benefit her at all. My house feels wrong without her—too quiet, too clean, too much evidence that she needs me, she needs my family, my son and my wife.

Jorge called this morning. He wants to show me another manuscript. I almost told him no. What’s the point of washing dishes mindfully when the person I want to care for is on another country? But I went anyway. Because what else am I going to do—stare at the walls?

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Thursday, April 13

I want you to pose your thoughts on this reflection.

You take care of every detail when you prepare a dinner for your loved ones and your guests. You plan the menu with anticipation. You choose something new, something special — ravioli filled with ricotta and spinach, a sauce simmered patiently, bread warm from the oven. An Italian wine, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi, to pair with your dinner. You set the table with that special tablecloth, the finest cutlery, even candles for light, and roses for beauty.

But when you are alone?
A frozen pizza.
Cheetos.
Yesterday’s Coke.
On the couch.
The TV filling the silence.

Why is your own company worth less than theirs? Imagine the thoughts you are feeding yourself — not food, but thoughts. You reserve the lofty ones for your guests and your loved ones. And for yourself? Frozen pizza, or its equivalent in thought: you are worthless, you don’t matter, you can survive with too little.

Treat yourself as your special guest. Spend money on yourself: nice shoes, a good jacket, a decent haircut. Wake with exercise, close the night with meditation. Avoid the endless news — go to art galleries and concerts. You deserve the best.

And yes, I know what you will say: I cannot afford all this.
But I assure you — once you begin to treat yourself as you deserve, you will discover the space in your budget, and in your life, for it.

You are called to love your neighbor as yourself — begin with yourself, for only a full heart can pour out love.

Your task for this week
Upgrade one detail of your daily life.
Buy yourself the best pair of shoes you can afford. That winter jacket you have been browsing for so long — it is time to bring it home. Or perhaps something as simple as replacing your old toothbrush with a beautiful, well-made one.

Also begin to nourish your body: start a workout routine, or practice yoga or meditation. The same care you show to your exterior must be reflected in your interior, in your soul.

Choose one thing, small or large, that quietly tells you: my company is worth it.

If budgets constrain, begin with what costs nothing—a walk in nature, a moment of breath. The heart’s space expands first.

At the end of the week, once you have completed your task, I will send you a messenger. You will recognize that it is I who noticed what you have done for yourself.

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“All this looks like Amy Vanderbilt’s Complete Book of Etiquette and not Virgin Mary — not too spiritual, I would say. I don’t know why, but when I imagined Virgin Mary, she would be speaking about love for others, about following the Bible and all that. This Virgin Mary feels more like a church outsider, a saboteur of expectations. I think I’m not in the mood for all this spiritual guidance, it’s worthless now with my mom away.”

Jorge was distracted — or better said, busy with his own thoughts — when he heard my complaints. He reached for a package of English biscuits, placed them on the table, and started to speak.

“It’s important to take care of yourself if you want to take care of others,” he said. “It’s like a spiral: you treat yourself well, you begin to feel better, then you enable your compassion to others, notice the results and try another way of treating yourself… In the spiritual world it’s the same. Even the Dalai Lama emphasizes compassion: ‘Compassion brings inner strength, benefiting all’ — start with yourself, and it spreads to others.’”

“A $300 pair of Compassionate shoes,” I muttered. “Yeah, spreading my shoes to others! Look mom, to show you my compassion I bought these shoes. Sounds spiritually right.”

Jorge grinned, bringing a modern voice into the mix. “As Solange Knowles said: ‘When you take care of yourself, you’re a better person for others. When you feel good about yourself, you treat others better.’”

As always, he was right.

“I’m still intrigued about how all these teachings will cure my mom’s disease,” I admitted. “What should I do? She’s so stubborn — I don’t think she’s going to follow the advice of this Virgin Mary. Fancy bristles won’t stop her hands shaking.”

“I don’t know why Virgin Mary chooses you, and I don’t know how you’re going to pass all these teachings to your mom,” Jorge said. “Maybe these teachings aren’t for her at all. Maybe they’re for you. You also need to take care of yourself, not just your mom. Once you feel better, she will understand — and perhaps follow your advice.”

Jorge stood fast and steady, as if he were twenty, took my teacup, and put it in the dishwasher. Then he said: “Remember, caring for yourself isn’t selfish. A stronger, calmer you is the only way to help others — even to save a democracy, one life at a time.”

“Saving Democracy, this is what we should do now. we’re three brothers scattered across North America that cannot take care personally of their ill mother, and the immigration system is blocking any option that we could have to bring her near one of us, and politicians blaming us the immigrants about any failure in this country from job loss to housing crisis to even serving coffee.”

The next day in the evening, I browsed Moncler jackets online but a $3,000 jacket it’s not exactly a way of fix what separate me from taking care of my mother, then unrolled a yoga mat despite my creaky knees. Either way, I was not expecting any Virgin’s messenger — or another quiet failure.

Somewhere between the frozen pizza and the Moncler jacket I couldn’t afford, I wondered if Jorge was right—or if I was just doing anything to avoid feeling completely useless. Maybe caring for myself was preparation for helping her. Or maybe it was just what I did instead.