Self-care and respite take on different qualities in times of true crisis. Maybe it’s a clue as to why I respond so poorly to the common admonitions to take care of myself. Quietly, I affirm. I do.
Most assume the concern is emotional, and it is in part. I’m aware lately that the issues are primarily physical. It is strangely difficult to eat, exercise, and sleep soundly around a person who is suffering physically. The environment is unappetizing and there is a perverse temptation to power down with them. Motivations to toil and worry are ever present. Motivations to live one’s own life require discipline.
This is a good reason to consider taking up a hobby. Craft, music, gardening, dance, or other art form works – any kind of body-based creative practice. Simple movements or minor tasks accomplished are instant balm to the common disconnections from self. Who is dancing? I am. Who made that cute cross stitch? You guessed it.
We sometimes mistake the large and visible parts of life for where meaning is made. More often, the mundane is the muck of creation. Difficulties test us, and experience is the reward. Having a creative practice is a way to curate one’s own life no matter what comes along.
That’s why I’m writing to you today and why I write every week at http://www.PostedPast.com. It helps me to be and feel alive, even (and especially) on the darkest days.
Food, exercise, and rest pair well with alive activities. Walk with a friend. Snooze in the sun with a book on your nose. Or make that special hot dish for the church potluck. Who managed to eat, move, and laugh a little? You did.
Anne L'Ecuyer 