Self Care – Part II “And Then This Happened”

I’ve begun this post about fourteen times. When I was first inspired by a friend to remember ‘self care’ I assumed it would be easy – a little less computer time, a little more contemplation – how hard is that?

Well, it turns out ‘self care’ had a few surprises waiting for me.

It began innocently enough:  with a day spent on Facebook.  Don’t judge – just read.  Anyone with a FB account will, at some point, try to track down everyone they’ve ever known – ever.  That’s how I spent July 4th this year.

I spent my childhood in Pennsylvania and graduated from high school in 1976.  One quick FB search and I had found and ‘friended’ my best buddy from those years.  Betty* was one class ahead of me and when I was a senior in high school she went off to college.  I always remember wishing I was as cool and as smart and as funny as she was.  But like most high school best friends, we had grown apart by the time it was my turn to head to college.

Facebook, in its infinite (and sometimes scary) wisdom, allows you to see everyone else’s friends.  I looked through Betty’s list to see if there was anyone I knew.  Of course there was.

In high school,  Veronica* and I had one thing in common:  music.  We both played guitar and sang and were usually the “go to” girls for musical interludes at school assemblies.

(We need to pause here for a moment simply to remind ourselves that I knew these people thirty-five years ago. Thirty-five years ago. In Pennsylvania.  Betty is still on the East Coast, Veronica now lives in Europe and I am firmly ensconced on the West Coast.)

I ‘friend’ Veronica and take a look at her Facebook friends – again, just to see if there’s anyone I know.

There is.  And when I find her I catch my breath and feel the hair on the back of my neck rise.

Veronica is friends with Archie*.  Veronica, the funny, hyper, musical genius I knew three and a half decades ago is friends with the Archie I met in a yoga class in 2005.

And on July 4th,  2010 in Palo Alto, California I am sitting at Archie’s kitchen table with Jughead* the Labradoodle at my feet and looking at Archie’s photograph on my laptop in Veronica’s list of friends.

At that moment the world shrank to the size of a head of a pin.  Six degrees of separation narrowed to three. The two halves of my life collided in the most remarkable way and ‘self care’ took on a new and profound meaning.

*Clearly, I have changed the names of those involved.  Even the Labradoodle.  Then again, I changed my name twenty years ago, almost to the day.  But more on that later.

Self-Care

I have friends who are great at putting themselves first.  In a good way.  Some friends simply know when to say ‘no’.  Others have the means to make twice yearly trips to their favorite spa.  Still others begin their day with reflection and meditation – before turning on NPR, before checking the emails, before putting on the kettle.

I do not fall into any of those categories.  I’m terrible at saying ‘no’, my last massage was at least a year ago, and the first thing I do when the alarm sounds is open my MacBook to check for important emails that arrived in the night.

For shame.  And me being a yoga teacher and all that.  You’d think I’d know better.

The closest I come to self-care are visits to my acupuncturist Dea Burmeister.  But they only happen once every six weeks or so.

The last time I saw Dea, I was in her office not as a client, but as a practitioner.  She wanted some bodywork on her lunch break.  While we were preparing she mentioned that she’d gotten out of bed early that morning.  I asked why.

“If I don’t get up early enough to fit in my meditation and my walk, I’m no good to anyone else.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it.  Nurturing self-care isn’t just about making ourselves feel good.  It’s about helping us to love ourselves so that we may love others.  And apparently this self-care business isn’t something that just happens.  You actually have to work at it.

What is Self Care?

Self-care is taking time for us.  Taking time that’s different than ‘down time’ in front of the television or computer.  It’s offering ourselves time to reflect and to center.  Self-care gives us permission to return to our still point – permission to find balance in a chaotic life.

For Dea, self-care includes meditative walks in the morning.  But we all have our own way of giving ourselves the care we deserve.

I’ve had two blessing in the past ten days.  First I was asked to dog and cat sit for a family who receive one television channel.  One. And it’s a bad one.  So I’ve not seen Keith Olberman or Rachel Maddow (my favorite source for news) since last week.  There’s been no Jon Stewart to make me laugh in the face of tragedy. In fact, I’ve not seen any news at all.  I’ve caught the Yahoo! headlines, but that’s it.

Reducing the amount of time we spend absorbing bad news is good self-care.  It doesn’t lessen our awareness of what’s happening around us, but it breaks our addiction to it. I feel different without the constant bombardment of what is – lets admit it – bad news.  I haven’t been this ‘chilled out’ since ‘chill out’ was the cool thing to say.

The other blessing happened a week ago.  I was enjoying a margarita with friends in their garden.  The subject came around to music, and ten minutes later I was holding a sixty-year-old Martin guitar while the owner said to me, “Why don’t you borrow it?”

My parents had a country band when I was growing up.  I began on a baritone ukulele but eventually graduated to a 12-string Guild.  I sold my guitar five years ago, telling myself I had no time for music.

Silly me. It turns out, for me, nurturing my musical side is very good self-care.

What do you do for self-care?  Do you meditate?  Do you row a kayak?  Do you need a hot tub and a massage or will curling up in front of a fire with a good book bring the balance back?

My goal over the next few weeks is to make time for my self-care – to block out a few hours in my schedule each week.  It won’t be easy.  The most difficult challenge for me will be saying ‘no’.

I just have to remind myself, it’s one step at a time, but forward.