Birthday month is rolling on, moving full steam ahead despite the unusually wet and cold weather we have been experiencing here in the Deep South. I have a house full (really, it always feels like a full house when it’s a small house) of littles that still want to play outside with friends so there is an ever-growing pile of sodden layers—socks, gloves, scarves, hats—that tends to extend from the front door to the bathroom. We are clearly unprepared for such a prolonged spell of cold and wet. What I have learned is that I really dislike picking up wet clothes. It’s a tactile/sensory issue that I realize has always been there and I wasn’t aware of it being such an issue until, well, things reached critical mass.
There is also the issue of my yard. It alternates from being a muddy mess to being a frost-covered muddy mess. My teenage son’s friends like to park there so they can reserve the driveway for whichever car they are working on that day. I complain to my husband who reminds me, you always wanted to be the house the kids congregated at; do not complain to them. So I bite my tongue. And the wet and cold persists as the days roll on and finally! I cannot bite my tongue any longer so I walk outside to casually inquire into how the installation of the new radiator is going and slip in a hint about taking it easy on my muddy yard. As I approach the boys, trying to identify where my son is in the group (under the engine bay, always under the engine bay), two of the boys smile brightly at me and begin to thank me for letting them work on their cars at my house because their moms won’t let them work on their cars at home. I smiled. We chatted. They gave me a running list of repairs they had accomplished that afternoon. I never said a thing about the yard. The yard can wait. I’m reframing it, reminding myself that we provided a space for these boys to congregate, to laugh together, to learn together, to fix up old cars together, and learn some valuable lessons and skills in the process. If you’re a local friend and coming over, wear boots.
Take good care my friend.
PS: If you are interested in a collective to discuss and share ideas around women’s health and wellness, join us over here.
PPS: The spring Wellness Collective | Detox begins March 20. Reserve your spot here!
A practice for you
Self-care comes in many forms and can look different for everyone. One of my go-to self-care practices is a warm bath at the end of a long day followed by oiling my feet.
Sometimes self-care is about the bigger stuff like being more intentional about how I spend my time, saying no when I reflexively say yes.
I’ve been exploring the many facets of self-care for a long while. Most people think of self-care as a mani-pedi, a yoga class, a massage, or brunch with friends. While I agree those all have elements of self-care to them, they are not enough for me. I want more than maintenance self-care! I’ve been digging in to try and understand what I’m really looking for in these moments of self-care. Do I need more quiet and stillness? What needs to be cleared away? What do I need to cultivate so that I can be in this space of self-care (meaning, make myself a priority) a little bit more in my everyday life. How might this intentionality with myself impact the rest of my life?
With the wet and the wild blowing, set yourself up in a warm and cozy spot with a warm beverage and your journal. Write about what self-care means or looks like for you. For everything you list, identify what need that practice addresses. Contemplate: are your self-care practices maintenance practices or are they getting to the root cause of your need?
PS: If you’re interested in Ayurveda-inspired self-care practices, you’ll find my favorites here:
tongue scraping | oil pulling | dry brushing | abhyanga | foot massage