It’s a warm, cloudy day, and it’s probably going to rain. I don’t mind so much, when the weather reflects how I’m feeling inside. I like days like this, when the clouds hover over like a weighted blanket – heavy enough to swaddle your psyche, but tender, non-threatening. Clearly brimming, without spilling over. Filled with emotion, on the verge of a good, cleansing cry.
Maybe it’s me, but I need days like this. Restorative days. Comforting days. Days when I take cover without piling on the guilt. When staying inside is a way of self-soothing, when I sit quietly in the company of my thoughts. I can’t say I’m uncomfortable in this climate. Maybe I’m more myself this way. I think I have many selves, many layers. Maybe we all do.
Like most Saturday afternoons, I had a lot I wanted to accomplish. I wished one of my selves would step up and take action. And like many other Saturdays, I sat here while the hours passed, knowing I’ll never get them back. The missed opportunities, the chances to be productive, to make changes. To do better, to BE better.
And then I read that it’s National Dog Mom Day. Imagine that. Even dog moms have their day. And I felt obligated to act, because that’s what good moms do. Follow their instincts, lead by example. Or at the very least – do a little laundry, take out the trash.
And you know as dog moms, we put our dogs first. We think we’re spoiling ourselves by spoiling THEM. More food, more play, more attention. We create an atmosphere of lack, where there is none. Imagine wants, conjure needs that don’t exist. We can’t admit they’d be just as happy wagging their tails and waiting for our scraps.
What’s that The Dog Whisperer says? Exercise. Discipline. Affection. In that order. It’s how you satisfy a dog’s primal needs. You don’t lavish attention without rules, boundaries, and limitations. That’s parenting. Shouldn’t it be the same for us?
Over the past few years, I’ve thought a lot about self-care. People think it comes naturally. That we have some innate sense of how to care for ourselves, protect our peace, follow our dreams. We learn that being adults, mothers, women, role models, is about pouring out everything we have to water our worlds. It’s not good enough to hover and hint at a shower. We need to RAIN. All. The. Time. And it’s not good enough to soften the ground. We have to kick up the dirt. We have to STORM. And all the while, keep our eyes on the calm that’s supposed to come before.
What people fail to realize, or at least what I’ve failed to realize, is that self-care isn’t selfish. And it isn’t simple either. It’s not about waiting for the storms to pass and picking up debris. Self-care takes practice, discipline. It won’t settle in like a warm, weighted blanket. It’s challenging. It takes commitment and resilience, consistency and persistence. It takes knowing how to parent yourself and when to ask for help.
You can’t be happy without effort. Contentment and joy aren’t spoils easily won. You make choices. You learn to choose yourself. Through exercise, routine, by feeding your mind and your body. By knowing where to draw your boundaries, even when we blur the lines.
And leaving something behind isn’t the same as moving toward something else. Every choice, every step, we advance and retreat. We’re constantly in flux, always in motion. It’s not linear. It doesn’t come to us naturally. It takes rules and limitations. When the day looks dark, when the skies are overcast, shift your perspective and keep going. Do the laundry, take out the trash. Spend time with your people and your pets. Ask for what you need and receive it willingly. Give it to yourself if you can. Do it first. Lead by example. Appreciate your autonomy, be grateful you have agency. Make choices with certainty. Choose yourself in the way that only you can.
🐾🌱 Stand Up & SPROUT! 🌱🐾 