Stop
leave the key in the door,
turn right round where you are
See, feel, hear
the wind rush through the trees
Let yourself be lifted in its flow
the great whirling above our heads
that we miss
when we only look down
Tag Archives: thriving
Stop Gaps on the road to Self Care
My last post, The Kids are All Right, elicited a lot of feelings and reactions. More than I expected actually.
I always view difficulties through the lens of mental illness vs health, but those I outlined last Tuesday struck a chord with many moms across the spectrum.
That doesn’t mean there is an epidemic of maternal mental illness – though there is an underreported and underserved population for sure. It only underscores what every mother already knows: motherhood is extremely trying.
Every age and every stage has its challenges, which usually present themselves directly after one set has been deciphered and conquered. But add in a post-pandemic, high-inflation, middle-age slump (at least for me and my contemporaries) and even getting out of bed seems like a monumental feat.
There are many systemic and cultural constructs that make up the fabric of our current constraints – and yes, there needs to be change at those levels. But what can one mother do as she looks at her own face in the mirror?
She needs to be clear on what motherhood means to her. What it looks like. What is non-negotiable and what falls under should. What has to occur/or not for her to be able to rest her head on her pillow at night and not toss and turn.
This does not preclude those around her from supportive responsibility. But the reality is, she likely will have to recruit this, too.
Self-care has been co-opted as a concept by the those who can make money off face masks and body poufs, candles and cocoa butter. But taken at its literal meaning, mothers need stop gaps to release the daily pressure of motherhood.
Mothers need stop gaps to release the daily pressure of motherhood.
In the everyday rush of responsibility and running on empty, however, caring for oneself can be just one more item on an already too-long-list.
Sometimes it is quiet and solitude. Sometimes it is community. Sometimes it is rest. Sometimes it is activity.
Surviving motherhood is a constant balancing act. Hopefully we don’t get turned around in the process.
An Argument for Self-Care
Isn’t it amazing that we only engage in self-care when we have to, when it’s absolutely necessary. When we’ve reached such critical mass we’re about to blow apart.
That’s usually when I get a humdinger of a sinus infection. Agony. Aches and pains. Congestion. Fever, Chills. As horrible as it is, it forces me down for the count. To the couch. To bed early. To forcing fluids and taking it easy. Would I think to dial things down when the first symptoms show up? Heck, no. Push on through.
This morning I happily scrolled through the WordPress Reader, checking in on some of my favorite blogs. Catching up. Touching base. Doing what bloggers do. When the hormones of early pregnancy unleashed a horrible churning in my stomach. I tried to ignore it, but finally had to shove a snack down my gullet before breakfast came up. Self-care had become an interruption, an annoyance.
Arriving home from my brisk walk to the bus stop, I grabbed a glass of water. One would think the neutral taste would be good for someone trying to avoid the aforementioned ‘upping-of-the-gullet’. Un-unh. It just reminded me that hardly anything tastes good anymore – and that my long-overdue to-do of buying lemons or limes to slice up and put in my water may actually help. Why should it take utter disgust to push me to finally make this small treat a reality?
What is it about humans – and women in particular – that makes self-care always an afterthought? Guilt? A Puritan ethic? Not wanting to be self-centered, self-absorbed, selfish? Lack of time? Money?
I’m sure it’s all of the above. But I’d venture a guess that it’s most likely a feeling that we’re not worth it. We don’t deserve a reward – no matter how small. Especially when there are others in the world who have so little; who suffer so much.
That last point makes an especially compelling argument. However, there’s a reason flight attendants tell us to put our oxygen masks on first before assisting those next to us. Mothers, care givers, partners, aid workers, samaritans, humans – none of us are good to those who need us if we’re laid out, dog tired, dead sick. We can enact great waves of tenderness and care in the world if we start in our own little atmosphere.
Chopping Potatoes 