Self care and warning lights

Today I am busy. I’ve been working in my professional capacity this morning and there is more work this evening. I’m delighted to have these attendances to do but it does mean that there is less time for writing and other stuff. The old me would have driven myself through, tried to cram in as much as possible and ended up exhausted and resentful. The slightly less old me did learn (through being forced by ill health) not to do the driving through but I found I was still aspiring to drivenness, as if this was the best way to go about life, and to achieve success.

We all know what it looks like. In the UK, at least, we have a long hours culture and, even when we are at home, we are now contactable 24 hours a day thanks to smart phones and all sorts of other technology. It’s seen as laudable in many circles to work too hard for too long and to make sacrifices for our careers. And we end up in a society which advertises anti-fatigue moisturiser for men, as if just making us look less tired will solve the problem. As far as I can see, too many of us are too tired.

Now, when I was growing up, my parents would take the car to the garage if it was making a funny noise. The car I have today has numerous warning lights to tell me when something is wrong. As soon as one of them lights up, I check in the manual what it means (I’m not so worry-free yet that I don’t need to work out “whether I need to worry”!) and make an appointment with the garage to have it looked at. This is the way we look after our machines. And if you have a baby who is snuffling with a cold, over tired or teething, you do everything you can to make him or her feel better, don’t you? And toddlers, and young children. We even try to make sure our teenagers rest enough and eat properly. But somewhere between childhood and adulthood we lose this sense of care and we decide that now we need to be pushed beyond what is healthy, to keep going even though we feel bad (warning lights) just to make the grade.

Well, I’m learning not to do that any more, and not even to feel a little bit guilty because I take time out. Today, in between working and doing my paperwork, and around providing a teenagers’ taxi service (roll on driving lessons!), I got myself out in the very cold fresh air with Alfie for some real regeneration. Cheaper than Botox – free in fact – and much more fun! Now I’ve made a lovely cup of proper coffee (those of us who drink decaff can still be choosy) and I’m in a much more relaxed state to get this posted and get ready for the next bit of work.

And the result? I’m turning into a person who doesn’t worry, who trusts in life and the universe, and enjoys every day. While walking, I was reflecting how important it is that my self-care approach, and my anti-worry strategy, is multi-faceted. I’ve learned that my needs include time alone, exercise and contact with the ground and the elements, for example, but this would do me little good if I wasn’t also incorporating more cerebral practices to help me control my thinking and get my head in a good place. How much fun would a muddled, out of control head be out on a walk like this? Not much! Similarly, if I was purely concentrating on sorting out my thinking and not paying attention to my emotional and physical needs, I’d be missing out big time. I’m not just a head, I’m a whole person, a mixture of physical, emotional, spiritual and intellectual, and all of these aspects need to be involved when I am taking care of myself.

This multi-faceted approach is, I reflected, a large part of the reason for my success in kicking worry into touch. I didn’t just meditate, or just exercise, or just share my worries. I did all of these (still do) and much, much more. It might sound like a lot to do but the results are so life-changing that I’d have made twice the effort quite happily, now I know what a difference it has all made.

So although I haven’t had time to write (apart from this) today, it feels as if some quite important thinking has been done. Of course, these days, because my mind is so much freer of worry, my mind is available for constructive thinking whenever I need it!

Just a thought: how often do you feel really grotty with tiredness, or suffer from various physical symptoms or irritability, for example, that probably is a result of doing too much for too long with not enough rest and self care? Are these warning lights? Do you need to factor in a service in the form of some real down time, or perhaps even re-think your commitments? Try some fresh air and mud sometime – it works wonders!