Careless with Myself

"You gotta be kind to yourself" She & Him 

I'm generally a careful person, but I'm also somewhat clumsy--I forget people's names, I bump into things and don't notice and get myself covered with bruises. I'm gracious but forgetful at times. So along those lines, about 5 weeks ago I got a pedicure and my feet felt AWESOME. They were a fabulous shade of orange and then I sort of forgot about them... for a month. So, the other day, I noticed that one of my toenails has split about halfway across my big toe and I have no idea how I've done this. I've stubbed my toes a fair few times on the uneven London pavement, and I haven't trimmed them, so I get holes in my socks, leaving my poor toes unprotected, but I never noticed any damage or felt any real pain...

I've been careless.

And I can't help but feel that this is how we sometimes go through life. We spend money or time or both, on ourself--sorting some problem, looking after ourself, but then, in our glory, we forget or get busy and things happen and we're careless and then, before you know it, body parts start to crack or go missing...

Maybe not.

But we probably need to take time out to tend to ourselves more than once a month (or less).

My housemate and her friend recently were talking about these courses where people learn team building and communication. One woman on the course remarked

"I have a deep respect for religious people because whether you call it prayer or meditation or reflection, they take time out to do this regularly and really tend to themselves. I never want to think about my emotions. I just get on with it." 

In a world where your therapist might know more about you than your housemate, facebook chat, and "virtual" events which happen online turn into real memories, people seem to be connected superficially to everyone--even themselves.

Especially in work environments, it's easy to look down on anyone who's finding something difficult. The attitude is that you should be able to cope, or you'll be replaced or put on a training course. But, there really isn't a training course for life or with dealing with your own emotions... you just have to "get on with it"... and so a lot of people do, ignoring some of the deepest parts of themselves.

A lot of studies show that people aren't even as close with their own families and tend to move away, or not have people to talk issues over with or work things out with. (Ah, I usually have links to studies, but alas, I can't find the NYTimes/Guardian articles).  Loneliness is rampant... and I wonder, how many of us are walking around with damaged toenails, or worse, damaged hearts and souls?

Christian writer, Donald Miller, in his book Searching for God Knows What, comments that after the fall, we humans are like the children of Chernobyl, we grew up deformed and in excruciating pain, but we don't know anything else. We don't know what we could be, we just see glimpses here and there of perfection.

While we're here, I do want to distinguish some things from the concept of "caring" for yourself. Spending money on yourself is not necessarily caring for yourself. Thinking about yourself a lot is not necessarily caring for yourself. Having good self esteem is not necessarily caring for yourself. Doing popular things or being popular is not necessarily caring for yourself.

I've been getting the feeling lately that things that are beautiful have been mistaken for things that are true, and that things that are popular are being mistaken for things that are right. And yet, there is a huge difference between what is favored by the most people and what is good for the most people, and even utilitarianism has its boundaries of usefulness and justice.

In a world that seems nonstop, I tend to always feel like I'm missing out... either on my reading and writing, or on meeting up with friends, or speaking to my family... on going to the gym or going for long runs or enjoying a cup of coffee (instead of downing one for the caffeine). Taking time for one thing inevitably feels like losing time on a score of other things. It's just no way to live--always feeling frantic and rushed and like I should be doing more and managing more and go, go going.

So in conventional 90s wisdom, I would like to be the roadrunner and not Wile Coyote... moving with grace, purpose and agility to a specific destination, and not struggling with poorly laid plans that leave me with an anvil or piano on my head, or falling off a cliff.