Adulthood is a potpourri of beauty and heartache, joy and adversity. It can be difficult and unexpected. In a battle for survival, stress and conflict accumulate and aggregate collect and congregate around our joys and triumphs. Love and loss, happiness and heartache, health and sickness, life and death, opportunity and struggle, bounty and poverty are the two sides of life's varied experience. All of which catapult into adulthood without precedent or preparation. The trials of youth, although heartbreaking in their own right, offer little insight or training for the onslaught of adult life. Bills, relationships, career, responsibility all enter stage right like a ready-made rite of passage. I call this accumulation the avalanche of adulthood in all its gorgeous complicated intensity.
I am a big believer in observing nature. There are so many profound lessons to be learned and extrapolated from her movements. Alexandra Witze for the publication Science News, writes, "Every avalanche is a battle of snow versus gravity, and gravity always wins. An avalanche begins when snow piles and its weight exceeds the load that the snowpack can bear." I'll break this down, when the weight exceeds the load that the ledge can bear, gravity wins. The cliff succumbs and the avalanche dumps. Imagine the snow lightly layering across the mountain's edge. Storm after storm, ever layering and packing with each passing day. At first the snow is imperceptible on the mountain's side. Then one fateful day, fine one moment and collapsing the next, the snow drops. The mountain surrenders, folds and breaks under the shear mass and weight of its burden. Likewise, life falls and showers across the landscape of our lives, layering more and more. Each time adding weight and mass. Until one day there is imminent danger of collapse. Sheer drop. Buried under piles of snow.
Life doesn't stop. Unless we fortify the gravitational weight of adulthood, we may find ourselves neck deep in ice and snow. In a life filled with various forms of precipitation and storm, what is our avalanche protocol? Are there safety measures against the weight of life's gravity? Yes. Absolutely. I believe we can utilize tools of insulation and preparation. Dress ourselves in a giant snow-suit to navigate through the drift and piles of ice and debris. Self-care is our own wonderful snow suit, custom built. It fortifies in life's most difficult storms. Self-care protects and prepares. It creates the possibility of discovery -- self-discovery. Self-care goes far beyond brushing teeth and taking care of basic hygiene. Self-care is the personalized directions for an individual, body and soul.
•It is deliberate
•It is self-initiated.
•It is time.
•It is listening.
•It is acceptance
•It is an understanding that personal care is essential care.
•It looks at the whole person: physical, emotional and spiritual.
•It considers what drains and what fills and strikes a balance between the two.
Self-care does not judge or compare. It is vastly personal and individual. It is the avalanche protection program -- a lifetime guaranteed.
In our busy lives it is easy to mistake escape as proper self-care. The difference lies in the duration. Escape is fleeting. And care sustaining. To regularly medicate in place of care is to negate our deeper needs for our immediate wants. It is to cover pain rather than nurture, understand and replete. It is the difference between eating feelings and exploring them. I am not advocating the abolition of escape, but rather to recognize it for what it is. Escape is not care. Medicating temporarily masks symptoms at surface levels while care heals at the source. Self-care connects action with lasting feeling. It observes behavior and result. It does not shrink from adversity, but has strength and courage through it. Care is confidence in the work already done. It knows safety measures are in place and snow suit is readied.
If you are like me and the idea of self-care is akin to actual avalanche prevention, beginning is daunting. I grew up in a household where physical and emotional needs were understood through various forms of calories, primarily butter and sugar with the occasional extra cheese. I wasn't even aware of what I needed, why or how. Enter adulthood crisis number 1 through infinity. On a several occasions, I hit my limit, the avalanche dumped and I did not know how to move forward. In these moments, I'd temporarily breach. Then would simply figure out how to muster a bit more effort and energy. Squeeze it from the depths of my soul and borrow it from my emotional stores. Eat a few brownies, followed up by a cookie or three, then persevere. This was neither sustainable nor desirable. Something had to change or I'd freeze under piles and piles of snow. I decided that I could not be satisfied with medicating and numbing. And in turn discovered the joy and strength of care and nurture. Through this it is possible to weather storm and travel across both peak and valley of daily life. Here are a few lessons I've learned about self-care:
- Shift from a short term to long term approach to care. Map it out. Make a plan.
- Cultivate the question, "What do I like and enjoy?" Brainstorm. Makes lists.
- Experiment with different healthy, meaningful activities: Time alone. Journaling. Exercise. Long walks. Balanced meals. Time with friends. Discovering a hobby. Meditation.
- Observe what fills and refuels. And make note which activities connect you to you.
- Exchange one escape activity for a nurturing one. Make the changes one activity at a time.
**Please share your journey to self-discovery and care -- its trials and triumphs.
About Maran Whiting Hanley: As a writer life is my artist muse. I love to watch and apply. I believe a writer's job is to tell a story. To fit disparate and incongruent pieces into one great whole. I am an enthusiast of health and wellness. I am passionate about self-care, whole foods and movement. I am a mother. I love to travel. I am an artist. A collector. A lover of art. Above all I am human -- by trial and error trying to learn how to live and love.