Take-A-Day

I must admit something to you. I spend a good piece of my writing time with the intent of helping others live a good, intentional, less-complicated life. I extoll the virtues of slowed-down, healthy living. I advise readers to stare into candles and search for inner peace. But do I do these things myself? I'm afraid I've forgotten how.

My sister-in-law Emily and my friend Jen helped me realize this when we were preparing for the Water Party. We were in the early stages of silent auction basket planning when I said this:

"Oooh! I have a massage from Salon Envy I got last year and never used! I'll donate it!"

"Oh! I'll donate the massage that I got for my birthday a year and a half ago and haven't cashed in." (I should mention Emily is the one who gave me this massage, which made the revelation extra appalling.)

"Oh my gosh! Jake got me a $100 gift card to Indigo Hot Yoga for Christmas last year. I've never gone. I'll ask the owner if he'll write a new one for the party."

"What is wrong with you?" They asked in appalled unison. I've been thinking about that question ever since.

Here's what I've come up with: I've fallen into a dangerous thought pattern. I don't take time for myself. When faced with the opportunity, I find work to do. I find laundry to do. I dream up a project for the kids and gather the supplies. None of these things are bad and I actually enjoy doing all of them, but I've lost a little bit of myself along the way. Since being given the above-mentioned gifts (opportunities to pamper myself), I could have found time for an hour-long massage. I could have managed a hot yoga class or two or ten over the course of a YEAR. But instead, I convinced myself that I don't have time to spend on myself. I've told myself that if I'm paying for childcare, I should be working. I've attached guilt to self-care.

Perhaps there are a lot of us who have fallen into this trap at one point or another. Maybe it's a product of being in the rush-hour of life...kids, work, a mortgage, a big extended family, amazing friends, and an intense drive to suck the marrow from life. Maybe it's an individual flaw. Maybe it's the nature of the freelance work I do. (There are no built-in vacations. You have to make it happen yourself.) Maybe it's living in a society that honors busyness and constant productivity. Regardless, I can do better. I can show myself the same affection I show those I love most.

I'm going to work on being kinder to myself. I'm going to listen to my own advice. I'm going to try to slow down. A week ago Friday, I played hooky from work and had lunch with my mom. (The work still got done; my mom and I had a lovely time.) And last Tuesday, I decided to "take a day" for myself. I read a book. I meditated in a quiet house. I went to the Y for a run. I had a cocktail with my husband at the end of the day and we watched a movie after the kids went to bed. I'll be honest. It was so hard. But also, so delicious.

We're in the midst of a hyped-up busy season. However, I'm going to pay attention to how I spend my time and make sure that I'm not giving away what's good for me. I'm going to take a day...or an hour...or twenty minutes more often. It's my own personal rebellion. This is true, and yet, as you know wise reader, self-care should never be rebellion.