Sunday, November 10, 2013

When the universe says "stop"... should stop.  Preferably the first time she says it.  Definitely by the time she is bellowing.

I could (should?) write an entire blog chronicling the evolution of my understanding and practice of self-care.  I've written a good deal about it, and theoretically, I have a really nice understanding.  Demonstrating this understanding and putting it into practice is another story.  It's a slow learning curve, for sure.

As you may have deduced last night, I was out of town yesterday and today.  I was also out of town last weekend.  The weekend before I was ridiculously busy.  In fact, for the last several weeks, I don't think I have found time to even sit on my couch, much less clean, catch up on washing dishes (have I ever mentioned that I hate not having a dishwasher?), or do other things here that make me feel like a normal, functioning human being.  I hadn't been to the grocery store in 3 weeks, and needed such basic essentials as...toilet paper.  The past 3 weeks have officially been too much.

At any rate, I got home later than I anticipated today.  By the time I was home and unpacked, it was nearly 3:30.  I gave myself 30 minutes to regroup, and then decided to run errands.  I did -- including grocery shopping -- and got home at 5:30.  I then unloaded the groceries, washed a couple dishes, cleaned my bathroom, and chopped up a bunch of veggies etc to put in the crockpot for some sort of mishegas that will hopefully be good.  After I did that, I noticed I was getting a headache.  I decided I don't have time for that, took a couple deep breaths and some Excedrin, and kept moving forward.

I paid some bills.  I sent an email.  I set up an appointment online.  I tried to plan out when I'm going to put together the presentation I'm giving on Tuesday.  I tried to figure out when I'm going to write more notes from last week.  I looked at my schedule for the week and attempted to write more into it.

And then I was getting tired.  And anxious.  And worn-out.  And headachey.  And the universe was saying "stop..." and I knew she was saying stop...but did I listen?  Pffffft.  Do you know me?  I decided to wash a couple more dishes.

So I did.  When I picked up the little blade piece from my food processor, though, the universe sought revenge.  Or, perhaps more accurately, she took advantage of the opportunity I presented her, and I somehow managed to slice my thumb.  There was blood all down my hand, and I have a lovely 1 inch cut down my right thumb.  It's not too deep, and I got it to stop bleeding eventually, but I just gave up after that.  I went and sat on the couch with the dog to sulk at the universe ruining my productivity, promptly fell asleep into a strange and anxious dream, and woke up confused 20 minutes later.

The funny thing is, this happened several weeks ago.  Not the same exact thing, but pretty close.  I was cooking or washing dishes or something, I was worn out, I had a headache...annnnnnnnnnnnnd I dropped (and broke) 2 dishes (which I then cut myself on).  You would think I would learn, right?

Believe it or not, when I'm mindful and centered and don't have a headache, I'm really not actually a clumsy person.  I swear.

I just seem to be so obstinate sometimes.  I know it's not worth it.  I just have a hard time actually listening and following through with that.  I even thought things like "just sit down for 10 minutes.  Or even a 5 minute sitting meditation will recenter and ground you.  Do it.  DO IT!"  But did I?  Of course not.

But why not?  I don't really know.  I just...I didn't want to.  You know?  Self-care is uncomfortable.  It feels like something you're supposed to hide.  It feels like something you keep on the shelf for special occasions with the good china.  You can take it out occasionally -- but only if you're careful.  Mostly, then, it feels like such a hassle to go, get it, unwrap it gently, rinse it off, use it, wash it carefully, wrap it back up and put it feels almost like it's not worth it.

I've never liked china anyway, and I don't understand the point of having things that are "too good" to use regularly.  I don't want my self-care to be like the good china.  I want it to be brightly colored FiestaWare.  The type I take off the shelf day after day after day and use and wash like a ritual.  I want my self-care to be hearty and healthy and robust: something that can withstand the daily pressure of use and not crack or chip.

Apparently, I have a ways to go to get there.  Just ask my thumb.

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