How Do You Treat Yourself?

Sometimes, I think of the word "treat"
like an unexpected, special thing
I do or eat,
like a yoga class
or a new book
or a latte.
Sometimes, I forget
it is also a way.
::

I am sitting under a eucalyptus tree
in the sun,
hearing the drone of bees
in the wandering rosemary,
knowing the tart aftertaste of a natal plum
milky and sweet and wild,
in the corners of my mouth.

I ask the woman beside me,
who has dark eyes
pillowed by years of trauma
yet still shine
with deep forgiveness and
the real kind of love,
how she treats herself.

I expect her to say
something material
or at least physical;
a run with the dog,
spending time with her grandson. 

Instead she answers:

gently,
slowly,
with compassion.