Self Care

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For many of us, the election last week was hard, to put it mildly. I went through periods of grief, heartbreak, rage, disbelief and fear, among others. These emotions are still percolating in me in varying degrees. What I am most aware of as I sit down to type is an underlying feeling of uncertainty.

What do we do when things happen in the world that feel scary, unbelievable or challenging in some way? We can feel devastated or defeated. We may feel powerless, angry or scared.

For me, today, it is hard to know what to do. I cannot say what will happen in the coming months or how our country may change as a result of this election. I think it has already begun to change - or perhaps I am seeing things more clearly than I had before. Still, I do not know what the future will be.

What I do know is that I want to be part of the group of people who are committed to coming together and standing with those who are most vulnerable among us. I know I want to include my heart in any actions I may take. I know I want to be available to those who are hurting.

Given all that, what do I do? The title of this blog gives it away. I can practice taking care of myself. I can listen to what I need so that I may be more in myself and present regardless of what happens. Some days I simply need comfort wherever I can find it. This can be the healing salve that allows me to go on in the face of uncertainty and fear.

Below I share some of the things that bring me comfort and joy. Even when things are hard, we need to remember there is love and goodness, too. And, sometimes, the most comforting thing can be to allow ourselves to feel our pain with another who knows how to feel their pain.

© Verastuchelova | Dreamstime.com

Finding Comfort

Here are some of my comforts. I invite you to consider what comforts you, as well.

I will start with the trees, the moon and the stars. The other night I was driving home and saw the Orion constellation rising on the horizon. He was flat on his back, parallel to the ground. I wanted to say, hello dear friend. Nice to see you again. Winter must be on its way.

I find comfort in connecting to the parts of the world and the universe that seem beyond time. Giant, old trees. Big rocks in the middle of a river, shaped by time and water. The brilliant full moon, which continues to wax and wane, again and again. All these things give me pause and remind me of the grandness of life. Then, in some paradoxical way, I feel less small.

Music is next. Music can speak to me and express something in me I did not even know was there. Some songs cut through all my exterior boundaries and land squarely in my heart. I am grateful for that. I can cry and sing and move and, somehow, feel renewed.

I had the experience last week of singing with a group of women, singing so loud I was almost shouting, tears streaming down my face, and I felt alive. I felt powerful in my pain and glad to be surrounded by others who shared my grief and rage and understood.

Lastly I will include two seemingly opposites. I find comfort in community and in solitude. I need both. I need to hold and be held. I need to connect with others and know I am not alone. I also need times to sit in silence by myself, to reflect and take stock, and to feel into my inner quiet places.

I offer all of this as possibilities of nourishment as we journey into whatever is next. May we find our way together. May we go in peace.

Nature as Healer

This weekend I had the opportunity to hike and camp in northwestern Connecticut. I spent 2 days in the woods, cooking over a fire, chopping wood and sleeping under the stars. As I drove back to the city on Sunday afternoon, I noticed how different my body felt. Yes, I was tired and sore from the physical activity and the lack of sleep. I was also calmer. I could feel myself moving at a slower pace. I could feel a sense of relaxation in my nervous system.

While I was in the woods, I felt like my body belonged there. It wanted to feel the ground beneath me. It wanted to lay on the rock and listen to the sound of the water cascading downhill. In the morning, the bird song felt like a hymn. In the afternoon, the sun warmed me, body and soul. At night, I felt the cool breeze, I saw the moon make its way across the sky and I felt like I was home. There is something about the rhythm of a day that resonates deeply in my body. I was working while I was there and still I left feeling more relaxed than when I arrived.

When we are in a place that feels nurturing and comforting, it can be easy to fret that it won't last or to believe we can't really have it. We can take ourselves right out of the experience. We can move away from the very thing that we may be seeking. I noticed myself doing that this weekend. My mind would wander and I would think about coming back to the city. I would drift into fears about money and the future. I would worry my food might run out by the end of the trip and I'd be hungry.

One of my practices is to let myself deeply absorb things that feel good. Rick Hanson calls this "Taking in the Good" in his book "Buddha's Brain: the practical neuroscience of happiness, love & wisdom." He describes savoring our positive experiences, staying with them for seconds at a time, maybe even half a minute or more, and imagining them entering into our mind and body. Because we are hard-wired to focus on the negative, we need practice focusing on the positive. Hanson calls this the negativity bias of the brain. In terms of survival of our species, it was more essential for us to take note of danger and things that didn't feel good, than it was to highlight the good stuff.

Most of the time this weekend, I forgot to practice taking in the beauty and peace of the nature around me. As I prepared to leave, though, I set an intention to bring part of my experience with me. I wrote myself a note to take with me the things I had felt connected to, such as the moon, the wind and the bird song. Now that I am home, I can recall my time in the woods and continue to savor the experience.

This is something each of us can do. The next time you notice feeling a moment of joy, love or something else that feels good, see if you can pause for a moment. Let yourself savor it. Imagine it becoming a part of you. Let it take up space in your body and in your awareness. Notice how long you can stay with it before your mind wanders. Know that you are planting seeds of goodness and well-being. 

For me, I will also bookmark the way I felt while I was camping as a reminder of how much I enjoy being outside and how good that feels in my body. It is important not only to pause and savor our positive experiences, but also to note under which circumstances they occur. Knowing what we like provides direction and leads to satisfaction.

May you be well.