There was a time back at the beginning of the century (how fun to say that!) when the first thing I did every morning was blog. I sat down with my coffee, opened Xanga (yes, I had a Xanga) and I poured my heart and soul into the text box, hit ‘publish’ and then went about my day.
There was something about that practice that (slowly) brought me into alignment with myself, with the life I wanted to be living but wasn’t. Slowly, over time, I began taking a longer, harder look at what was going on in my life ~ the choices I made, the relationships I invested in. I started taking what I’ve come to call ‘the long look’.
One of the immediate benefits of ‘the long look’ was poetry. It poured out of me. I bled the stuff all over every available surface and I’m not here to claim it was *good* poetry, but it was definitely poetry and because it was creative, and because poetry doesn’t lie (even when it tried), it shone a light on all my dark places, cast huge shadows on the walls of my heart, and brought me home to myself.
I’m taking Poem It Out with Liz Lamoreaux and though I am plodding rather slowly through it, it is reawakening that part of me that grew up through writing poetry. That part of me that got so horribly blocked back in 2006 and stayed blocked right through 2009 (until I discovered art journaling) is yawning and stretching and reaching for her pen.
Stuff like this is coming out:
Night calling birds,
crickets,
a soft moon through newly opened windows.
A softening
that defies the boundaries of
out there and in here
Did I just yield,
or did the day?
Which one of us surrendered?
My ears, filled as they have been
with white noise
and nonsense
let the night pour in.
It’s not much. It’s what I think of as a trifling little bit of a poem. It’s unpolished and a little embarrassing, but it. is. poetry, and it helps me see myself more clearly.
I expect trifling bits of poems will be finding their way into my art journals in no time.
***
Morning writing has always been a goal of mine. I’ve done The Artist’s Way a few times, and I am intimate with those dreaded morning pages. The rules always made me grit my teeth and while I once *loved* forcing myself to attempt to do things i disliked doing and then beating myself up over it when I failed, I don’t love that anymore. I love ease. I love doing what feels good.
My mother, were she here, would suck her teeth over that.
Life isn’t supposed to be easy, right? And it isn’t supposed to feel good.
Except, I think it is. I think it can. When we make that choice.
***
I came into this business not knowing it was going to be a business, and when it started to morph into one, I put my nose to the grindstone and I worked my ass off. If I wasn’t stressing over my to do list, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough, so I added more stuff to the to do list. I had this idea about what it meant to run a creative business. This idea had me running myself ragged. I became (and remain) very, very anxious all the time. Happy, but anxious. There was an old message playing itself over and over again in my brain that nothing comes easy and I must always be doing more, better, faster, harder…
I’m calling bullshit. If I don’t leave time and space for writing trifling little poems, if I don’t make time and space for long bubble baths, aimless walks, dinner with friends, camping trips, camera jaunts, if I do nothing but create content and then babysit it like I’m afraid it might dash off into the streets and get run over, I will end up depleted.
Me time. That’s what’s needed. Which won’t impact how much work I actually get done, but it will impact how awesome it feels doing it because I will be full up on the things my muse loves to eat, touch, look at, hear, do…
…and that will feed a cycle that never leaves me depleted.
***
I’m learning a lot from Leela Sinha. We Skyped a couple of days ago and it was one of those amazing conversations that holds every ripe, juicy thing you’ve been dying to eat after a week on a diet. In my case, it’s been eight months on a diet. I’ve denied myself down time. I’ve denied myself pleasures (even the simplest ones, like a beautiful breakfast or a luxurious soak). I push myself to some invisible line in the sand and then collapse in a hormonal wreck of needing to be taken care of. I do a lot of self-medicating (tobacco, mostly, but wine, too, and food binges in the evening!) because my anxiety levels are through the roof most days. I was chasing after this ideal of extreme self-care I’d heard other people talk about, and get this:
I was trying to do it perfectly.
And since that was impossible, I just didn’t do it at all. I thought about it. Stressed about it. Ranted at myself in my journal about it…
…but that’s as far as I got.
How’s that for completely missing the point?
If I couldn’t do a candlelit bath with incense and fluffy towels right out of the dryer, it wasn’t good enough. If I couldn’t make a Quinoa salad with raisins and almonds for lunch, lovingly prepared and gorgeously plated, well, I just didn’t eat. I thought I needed a weekend retreat or a day spa experience to do self-care properly, but I’m learning that a container of yogurt and a hot shower really do count. I’m learning that painting my toes and brain-draining here in my blog totally counts. I’m learning that a half hour walk isn’t as good as a weekend retreat but it’s better than nothing. Something, some little thing that might not look like much from the outside looking in is still SOMETHING.
Epiphany. :)
Mornings spent with coffee, writing my heart out, followed by breakfast, a shower, fresh clothes ~ that’s where I begin to love myself back into balance. It isn’t the perfect morning pages, meditating, yoga and smoothie combo that I’ve longed to incorporate into my life for *years now*, but it means I’m not launching myself, unwashed, unfed and anxious, into my work. It means I eat something before four in the afternoon.
And that’s something.
***
How about you? Where are you at with self-care? Does the phrase bug you? Do you practice it with ease or do you run yourself ragged?
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You wrote, “I’m calling bullshit. If I don’t leave time and space for writing trifling little poems, if I don’t make time and space for long bubble baths, aimless walks, dinner with friends, camping trips, camera jaunts, if I do nothing but create content and then babysit it like I’m afraid it might dash off into the streets and get run over, I will end up depleted.” You are soooooo freaking right! You have inspired me! Thanks again!
You’re sooooo welcome! <3
welcome home, dear.
*Puts on a pot of coffee and prepares to unpack* :D
Ah, Effy. As always, every word you say resonates with me so much!
Also, I LOVE the design of your blog now. Simple, classy, but with the pops of purple that make it so YOU! :D
Thank you, sweetness! It had to be purple! :D
I LOVE that poem! I can feel the moment – the question. Ahhhhhh…… **sighs with harmony***
One of the things that “the world out there” just DOES. NOT. GET. is one size does NOT fit all. We are all different. We have to do what works for ourselves alone and relax and accept it in other people as well.
Now, having just said that, I don’t follow it. I am hard on myself but easy on others. I can’t do self care until everyone else has what they need. I know this isn’t right – even the airlines tell you to put on the oxygen mask before you help your child. So why don’t I practice what I preach?
I was just commenting to Rosemary to that effect, Joni. I cut everyone else slack, but myself? Not so much. It’s a struggle, for sure, but I’m grateful to be in it and grateful to be seeing some progress. xo
I may have mentioned this, but it feels fitting to repeat here … since somewhere around 2000 I’ve referred to myself as a “recovering rigid,” a phrase I stole from one of my Transformational Energy Healing teachers. I’ve come a long way, as they say. In fact, I sometimes feel as if the pendulum has swung “too far,” and there are those out there who tell me so, in attempt to lure me back to a place I care not to go.
What’s this got to do with Self care? Before my “recovery” my Self care (and many other things) was laced with expectations. Expectations with outcomes to which I was committed. If the phone rang during a Medicine soak (because I forgot to shut off the ringer), it would throw me off my blissful journey to harmony, sometimes to the point of anger … because my expectation of a “successful” Self care soak did not include such intrusions. That’s *just one* example. Believe me, I could go on.
Somewhere along the way I’ve learned to let the … shit go, go with the flow, let the perceived intrusions pass through me, and often welcome them as unexpected guests. I don’t blame … them or me … or anything else. Well, I do my best. ;) I’ve created a relationship with expectations that is focused on process and journey with no ties to outcome and destination. It’s a nurturing and sustaining relationship. Sounds like you’re nurturing a similar relationship. I applaud you.
My mother once said to me, a few years back, “That’s your problem.You let everything go.” I’ve clung to that “criticism” as the beautiful Medicine that it is. Just the other day she said, “You take everything lightly,” again, with that critical, judging tone and all I could do was smile (through tears, mind you, but smiling nonetheless) to myself as I silently thanked her for another gem of Medicine to which to cling.
But now … I’m babbling.
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I have found myself expecting very little when it comes to the responses/actions of others (cutting everybody else slack) but my expectations of myself are *brutal*. I like ‘recovering rigid’, and I love what you shared about how it hurts when people judge you for something you are proud of. I want a lightness of being. I want to ‘take everything lightly’. I want to be unruffled. I think I am on that journey, and it’s nice to know you’re just up ahead, around the first bend, showing me the way.
Up ahead? Hmm. No so sure about that …
You reach forward, I’ll reach back. When I feel you, I’ll pull you too me. If that doesn’t work … I’ll reach back and you pull me. Deal? :)
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Deal! xo
ahhhhhh, self care- yes sometimes the very idea of it pisses me right off. I preach it, teach it and sometimes manage to give it to myself. I take on more projects than I can count trying to make myself feel like the worthy and deserving individual I tell every one that we are- naturally worthy and deserving of good in life with NO painful price. It just doesn’t come naturally for me. When I 1st heard the term “self care” I had NO clue- zero, of what that might really mean. I even did a monologue about it once… is it getting laundry done ? Feeding the kids, cleaning the kitchen ? Brushing my teeth ? Long baths in scented water ?
I have come to terms with self care, for me, is all of that, what it is not: is trying to prove to myself that I am worthy. It is not all the projects I take on, even though I can’t seem to give that up yet in hopes that one day I will rise to poverty level and not be the “welfare whore” I was told I would be if I ever left the relationship I was in 6 yrs ago.
Self care for me is the therapy, learning to make friends and connect with healthy people or at least on a journey to being a healthy version of themselves. It is stopping when I need to, its crying when I feel like it and asking for help when I can’t do it all alone.
I struggle constantly still.. 6 yrs doesn’t seem that long of being out of DV/SA after 37yrs of being in it. Working on that self negative talk to lose it or have it work for me has been a huge part of moving forward. I am still moving and I think that is self care.. I didn’t just lay down and die when I thought there was no hope. Self Care is not giving up on me because I am worthy and deserving.
I too, started out with a blog those 6 or so yrs ago. My 1st brilliant post was “Today I got out of bed.” The end. A huge accomplishment for me.. it grew and grew and grew from a personal journey to a following of nearly 35k a month. OVERLY intimidating for one who did not feel worthy of anything at the time and also it became a performance rather than a personal journey. I wonder if that is why I hesitate to blog again / write again although my soul yearns for those 1st freeing blogs where I began to practice loving myself for the 1st time.
I am rambling.. I know , it is my way and I love that part of me. At least I am writing , eh? <3 Ya.. at least I am being honest and I am writing. I am soooo tired of new projects and yet compelled to do them, somehow I just know its my calling and passion- balance, well I am still working on that. xoxo
I would love it if you’d pick up the blogging habit again. Maybe turn off comments and stats so you don’t feel like you’re performing?
Aww Effy! I didn’t realize you were doing that to yourself! It’s so easy though, isn’t it?
I’m so glad you’re allowing yourself “you” time. That’s what it’s all about – self care -looking after YOU. It’s very important, darlin.. how can you inspire so many when you’re dragging yourself around? I was listening to some of Andrea’s video’s last night. She really is great, and it reminded me of a few things I keep trying to tell myself are important. It’s still hard to shut out the voices from my youth “it’s not supposed to be easy” “you’re not supposed to enjoy it” BULLSHIT
You keep calling it, sweetie, and enjoy all the minutes you have. Those creative juices need feeding!
This is the point for me exactly: “…how can you inspire so many when you’re dragging yourself around?”
And, really, what kind of a hypocrite would I be if I kept on encouraging everyone ELSE to live a wild, precious, juicy amazing life while I’m over here in the trenches of work and anxiety?
Thanks for your support in this, Marjorie! xo
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Thank you for once again for sharing what’s real. I get confused often about what is the story and what is the experience. You are walking the walk and we all gain from your honesty. Love you
I love you back. You lift me up ALL the time and I appreciate you *so much*.
Great to here of that poetic place where awareness, emotion and anxiety find release through the beauty and power of words, sounds wonderous and wonderful. I’m loving my morning ritual that allows me to prepare for the day……..( i set out to learn to ‘BREATHE’ this year….and i am achieving it.. not only that it is making such a difference to my quality of life)……..my ritual does comprise of a cuppa and some non challenging yoga to balance out my mind and body and it puts me in a better place to avoid being ‘sucked dry’ of my life force by my work……. .Completing my BOD with a focus on intention and gratitude helped me get here…….and now is now helping me stay here.Thankyou x
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Effy I love your poetry…..it will look so beautiful with your artwork! Thank you for sharing. Taking time to paint, journal, and share is my “taking care of me” time. I would like to add the morning pages and yoga.
This story describes me to a “T”! I think self-care is mandatory — actually learned it the hard way by allowing negative people to run me away from my passions — art and journaling (and now art journaling!). Slowly came back to both and am working hard on establishing a morning self care routine for myself. Gotta learn that everything doesn’t have to be perfect in order for me to do something for self — I don’t have to be at home in my sacred space, that I don’t need that specific journal on my shelf, that I can use white acrylic if I can’t find the gesso, that I just need to DO IT no matter what!
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