I’ve heard it said, as writers, our ideal audience is us, five years ago.  So at 42, I’m writing to my 37-year-old self.  After all, we write what we know.  I suppose the lessons of life take a solid three to five years (at least!) to really get into our bones.

Five years ago, I was on a tear, hustling in about 20 different directions all in the name of productivity—worthiness I suppose.  I had one speed…fast.  Even though I’d come a long way on my journey of healing and wholeness, I was swinging hard in the direction of impossible expectations for myself and my life.  

In fact, I was so worn out, my body started to slowly break down, manifesting all sorts of back, neck, and jaw pain.  Even though I didn’t feel depressed, my body began calling out for some attention as there was still some work to be done deep inside.  Sure, I’d been a therapist for a while, yet needed to take my own advice and stop ignoring parts of me that desperately needed some love.

Let’s just say, I was seriously confused about the whole self-care thing.  I worked out hard, I enjoyed time with girlfriends, I went for the occasional mani/pedi, I journaled here and there, but I never fully stepped off the treadmill of what I’ve come to call my internal split.  By this I mean, my disconnection from myself and the present moment.  I was always somewhere else,  “out there.”  Self-care felt like a detour—a delayed pit stop or something.   

Fast forward  to today.  A lot has happened.  I got married, had my son, witnessed a pandemic, overcame breast cancer.  And somewhere in there, I woke up to the glaring fact that something needed to change if I wanted to actually show up authentically for my family and my dreams.  My internal  split needed an internal shift.  I knew a different set of circumstances wouldn’t change anything.  For the first time in my life, I quit hustling for my worthiness and started caring for the little girl inside who was flat out  tired.   

I’d mistaken self-care for something to be checked off the to-do list, quickly to return to life as I knew it.  It felt squishy—or weak or something.   It became a way to numb the soreness after a long day, like a glass of wine or a nice long bubble bath.  Whereas those things are lovely, they never seemed  to make me feel alive or more me.  Relaxing?  Yes.  Connective? hmmm…not so much.

I wish I’d known what true self-care is five years ago.  I wish I’d had a  roadmap, or ritual, to practice on the regular that was grounding, healing,  and life-giving.   Sure, I did eventually figure it out by the grace of God and some hardcore burnout. Maybe this was exactly as it should be.  However, I’d like to break the fall for anyone who’s curious. 

I believe we get good at whatever we practice.  Resilience in life is really about practice.   True self- care is simply nurturing resilience and compassion through practice in our everyday life.  It’s about bringing our whole self online—integrating mind, body, and spirit. 

Want to go deeper into that space with me? Join me in the Practice.