There is that moment, where you get the rug pulled from under you just as you think you have everything under control. I was trying to encourage someone the other day; she feels like she's falling behind in everything. I told her to run with all she had, then a little more. Keep pushing til it hurts, then push some more.
Then. . .
I realized who was I to be telling her this? I certainly don't feel like I have it all together. If I don't schedule things on a daily basis, they won't get done. This includes things like eating, exercising, piano, socializing. . . I don't have it all together. I feel like Alice in Wonderland, singing mournfully, "I always give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it. . ."
I used to feel like I was great at giving advice, until I realized my advice didn't always work on my primary test subject: myself. I felt like a. . . a. . . hypocrite. Gah. I hate that word. I didn't realize how much I hate that word until a chat with a friend turned into a major vent where I was confessing this flaw.
"You're not a hypocrite." Friend told me. "Advice isn't a set of rules to follow. Advice isn't always right. Advice is perspective. Your advice always means something."
Let me ponder this with you, Alice. If advice is perspective, then by giving ourselves advice, we are basically telling ourselves our own perspective, which is most likely the perspective of others that we've adapted into our view.
I've accepted that giving others advice that I've not used isn't wrong. It isn't hypocritical. It's just my view, sans judgement.
P.S. Please accept this post as presented. I am sick. I've forgotten what a blessing breathing through your nose is.