It’s been a week.
My 17 year old son went back to school this week. Junior year. It’s a biggie.
Did I mention he went back to school as a driver? (I’m fine. Totally fine. Hold on, let me just check my tracking app one more time to see if he’s left the school yet…)
My 13 year old son is on week two of his first three-week break. One more year of the year-round school schedule for him. Loved it when the boys were on the same schedule, hate it now that they only have two weeks of breaks in the entire calendar year that overlap. It’s our last year of it, though. (9 months and 19 days to be exact, not that I’m counting…)
My age means my migraines have started acting differently and I struggled through a nasty one that lasted 36 long hours, ignoring all my usual tips and remedies.
And my alma mater, not that far up the road, was the latest in a long string of educational institutions affected by gun violence on Monday.
My to-do list has remained relatively undone, only the top priority items getting my limited attention and even some priority items were relegated to “when I can” status when things like checking on friends who just dropped their freshmen off at UNC last week took the top spot.
I tried fighting it at first, all of it–fighting through the pain, fighting the distractions. My judgmental brain instantly listing all the things I should be doing besides laying in a dark room again or checking for updates during Monday’s lockdown at UNC.
But at some point, I remembered myself and that sometimes I need to ignore the shoulds for my needs.
Rest was more important. Screen breaks were necessary. So things like writing blog posts about sensory images in our writing or my typical Monday Motivation quote on Instagram will have to wait until next week when I’m physically and mentally restored.
So what do we do when we’re sidetracked by illness or kids or the wider world that seems hellbent on destroying itself lately?
Take care of you.
Rest.
Drink water.
Read. When I can, I’ve had my nose in a book this week. I don’t know if I’m retaining anything I’m reading, but it doesn’t matter. The words have order and the chapters have structure and the content is compelling enough to quiet my mind and body.
Move, if you can. Long walks usually help me, although this week they took a back seat to the headache. Hoping to do a gentle yoga practice today to release some of that pent up tension.
Connect with someone. Call a friend. Schedule a coffee. Text someone a book recommendation. Write a letter to someone and say hi to your neighbors as you walk it to the mail box. I had a lovely professional development call with some book coaching colleagues today and it soothed my soul to laugh and share with some new and old faces.
Don’t look away. Take breaks (you don’t possibly need to read every article about every thing), but don’t ignore the world around you. Look for the opportunities to help that are safe for you and your mental load.
That’s me this week. Not looking away, but prioritizing rest. Which means I don’t have the bandwidth for a post that isn’t just a brain dump (forgive me). I need to save that energy for other things. For hugging my kids. For a volunteer job at my kid’s school later this week. For a meeting with a mentor. For processing what happened Monday. For finding ways to make change.
My point is the world is going to be hard sometimes, the big wide world and our smaller, more immediate ones. A writer who doesn’t take care of themselves isn’t going to write. There is no shame in taking care of ourselves. Writing to process your world’s hard might be your best self-care. Or putting aside your writing might be the best way to care of yourself. Don’t judge yourself either way. Just do what is best for you in each moment.
When the world gets too heavy, don’t pretend it isn’t hard to carry but don’t let it press you into the ground either. We are here for each other. Reach out. Write. Don’t write. Whatever helps you.
And remember, a nap never hurt anyone.
Featured photo by Kinga Howard on Unsplash