Out of Chaos an organizing newsletter
Self-Care
I am bad at self-care, or so I’ve been told. What is self-care? Does it have to be a mani-pedi? Some people (and once upon a time, I was one of them) feel pampered and cared for after a $20 manicure. You’re in and out in less than an hour, you didn’t break the bank and your nails look fab. I get it; sometimes I can even enjoy it, but in general I am much better at the rigorous kind of self-care: getting up early, eating right, taking vitamins and walks. You know, self-care that makes you think of stern, British nannies and rosy cheeks. I have a sneaking suspicion that practicing the style of self-care that is less comfortable for you, whether it is the pampering kind or the rigorous kind, probably has added benefits.
But why worry about “self-care” any way? My husband is always invoking those damn airline masks: “You put yours on first, so you can help the child” he says, trying to talk me into going out to lunch with him on a Tuesday when I am planning on uploading newsletters to my Web site. Another friend is fond of telling me that I need to “fill my glass”-her point is that I give-to my kids, my husband, my clients, even the kids’ school, but I rarely take time to fill myself up.
“Who has time?” I always wonder.
But here is the thing, and I struggle with it, and yet I know it to be true: When I am frayed, frazzled, worn to a nub… I am inefficient. There is so much to do and I am running like a hamster in a wheel, but I am afraid. I once heard Sally Field say in an interview, “I am afraid that if I ever sit down I’ll never get up again.” I hear you Sally, and I like you, I really like you. But I am going to work on my self-care. I am going to schedule it in, just like anything else that is important and I want to accomplish. If it isn’t on the calendar, I won’t do it.
There is an even more important truth about self-care. Not only am I inefficient when I am sleep-deprived and overly busy, I am getting to the age where there is a risk in pushing and pushing my body without ever giving it some rejuvenating time. Recently I’ve been dealing with physical therapy. It is time-consuming. And comical: It is comical that everything my physical therapist brings up about my shoulder is a metaphor for my entire life: strong, yes; flexible, not at all. Bottom line: Prevention is more efficient, and all these new stretches I’m learning are definitely going to qualify as self-care.