A Work in Progress

I was reading Susan Piver's book on fear, and when I came to the passage about how often all of us treat our journey in this life as a work in progress. The pressure for self-improvement can become it's own task master, never taking a break, never letting up on the self-judgments; " Did I meditate long enough today ?" " Did I confront my mother with the truth, finally ?"  ' Did I tell everyone today that I loved them ?" etc.

So, we are just trading one monster in the closet for another. 

Where does the compassion for ourselves appear ? 

When does the soothing release of pressure surface ? 

Why do we hold onto the regiments so tightly as if they are the defining moments in our lives ? 

The oppressive nature of constantly doing; the relentless dogma we have chosen to shackle ourselves to...who is really in control here ? 

Whose needs are really getting met in this dance of perpetuity ?

How do you know when to take a 'break'...how do you self-nurture yourself.