Self-Care Log
As a tool in and of itself, I’ll be tracking how I am taking care of myself during this tough chapter.
Documentation is a strategy for me in general. (My) anxiety can sometimes make me forget the good stuff—that most often I feel very well, that I have come so far, that it will pass. Having data (dated logs, notes, lists, sketches etc.) reassures and encourages me when I am struggling. It also motivates me to stay vigilant.
Sharing my work with you will feed me greatly. Thank you for being here. I’d love to hear about your strategies and adventures in staying as healthy as possible.
Offering support to others is a self-care strategy for myself. It feeds me! So...please do contact me if you’d like to arrange a chat. Together we can brainstorm a list of things you might like to try. No one will be turned away.
Here we go.
Update - April 23rd, 2020: I’ll be using this space a little differently now. I’ll post bits and pieces of loveliness that I come across. Or things that I do—or don’t do. Perhaps things that I’m grieving or wishing I could get done. Hmmmm. We’ll see how it goes.
Saturday, June 20th, 2020
Last week I took a 60-minute free writing workshop with Firefly. Frankly, after a long day it was the last thing I felt like doing. But like exercise, I ALWAYS feel better or at the very least, a little more grounded after I write. So I logged on.
And it was gooood. Asifah, our facilitator, was warmth itself and I knew that the anxiety that seemed to be hovering a little too close had no chance of attaching itself to me anymore.
We wrote about the ‘small good things’ during this tough time. Something so sweet to do, yet I know won’t happen without gentle accountability.
Here’s a bit of what came from that blissful hour:
I hope I’ll look back on this time and remember:
…the unicorn castle made out of egg cartons.
…the word wall and number charts all over our walls. Because it was just fun to go slow and learn. …the getting to teach and discover and support inquiry with my kiddo in a way that I believe a child has the right to learn and to lead.
…going to bed together at 10:30 and the time I had in the morning before she rises.
…how my recent adjustment to loss and change had somehow really prepared me for all this.
…that I rarely got bored and how magical that felt.
…that I really do like my own company even when there’s struggle.
…the way my mom always cheerfully answered the phone. Always. Every single time. Hello! Like she was having a party.
I hope I’ll remember that I was okay without the things that I had thought were non-negotiable to staying healthy:
lots of exercise, nature, physical contact, socializing, being out and about.
I hope that I’ll remember that I took Zoom calls in my bathtub, stole flowers and didn’t really miss my coffee shops.
I may have been floating as I logged off. Thank you Asifah and Firefly. xo
Friday, June 12th, 2020
Hamilton, the Musical. Over and over again.
Saturday, June 6th, 2020
I’ve been called to poetry these last couple of weeks. Just enjoying the randomness off what I come across. I do regret purging the small collection of poetry I once owned —oh, Marie Kondo. The tactile page seems so much more romantic than the screen to me. Ah, well. Poets.org is a nice place to roam.
Today my mother emailed me the lines that I had so desperately clung to when I was struggling with acute anxiety.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
-Leonard Cohen
Wednesday, June 3rd, 2020
What am I doing wrong?
I’m on avocado pit #4. It won’t sprout!
Wednesday, May 20th, 2020
Had a great laugh with my girlfriend the other day. Despite the shaky line, despite having to retry a couple of times, catching up with Nuria via Skype felt good. She was telling me that a few months ago when she had loaned her sister a ton of money, she had said, “Unless there’s a world disaster, you are gonna pay me back by June.”
“I’m screwed. I don’t have a leg to stand on!” I hung up grateful for a the belly laugh.
Monday, May 18th, 2020
Been redefining what it means to be productive these days.
Thursday, May 14th, 2020
I love it when people don't write back right away—at all even. I love it when it takes longer than usual to follow up.
It's such a reminder to be gentle with myself. To remember that everything takes longer these days. That we all have finite supplies of energy.
No apologies required. I am grateful.
Wednesday, April 22nd, 2020
again the sun
anew each day
and new and new and new
that comes into
and steadies my soul
(Marianne Moore, 1887-1972)
Wednesday, April 15th, 2020
Feeling grateful for my online meeting with Write on Mama! Our last prompt was something like: Make a list of things/words/thoughts that ease/relax/help.
And though I am grateful for each item I wrote down, I am especially grateful for the call to action, for the accountability to write.
Writing the list was the best three minutes of today.
Here it is:
bright-coloured sheets
fort under the bed
making pancakes
Sherlock Holmes stories
pencil crayons
butter
spoken word
braiding hair
the word ‘bliss’
pencil in small hand
making yellow rice
playing ‘hot and cold’
wrestling
hanging laundry
painting egg cartons
watering plants
purple hoodie
ma’s creativity
stack of hair elastics
hot chocolate
knitting
teaching
flirting with a face mask on
kiddo making bed
eggies in the morning
orange washcloths
taking pens apart
wiping down the table
chopping onions
yellow Honduran dress
Ha. My impulse is to commit to doing this every damn day. I’ll resist that for now. There are enough shoulds and to dos already floating unnecessarily around my head.
Tuesday, April 7th, 2020
Finished mending a bedsheet today. It took me a collection of hours. I had done a more basic fix a few weeks ago before all this. And so, dear reader, I must admit that slowing down and living more simply has been on my radar for a while. I enjoy the tempo. It frees my mind for nice things. Bonus: Anxiety most often can’t stand the pace and wanders off.
Anyway, I now had time to do a more thorough job. It pleased my eyes to see neat-ish bright orange stitches on my navy blue sheet—something I can only do when I concentrate fully. Funny to then see the evenness disappear as my thoughts would start to wander.
Nearly finished, I discovered my work to be all buckled and bunched. And I thought about powering through anyway. And I smiled. And ripped out two thirds of my stitches to start over.
I have this image of pillows, sheets, clothes being covered in hand-stitched patches in a few weeks time.
***
Learned from mom today that back in the day, it was routine to rip a sheet in half once it had started to fade in the middle, as well-worn sheets inevitably do. Then, they would sew the outside seams together so that the less worn area was now in the middle—giving the sheet an extended life. (This was before we had bottom-fitted sheet.) Hmmm. Makes you think, doesn’t it?
Monday, April 6th, 2020
Learned that there are unlimited free audiobooks for kids here. But don’t be fooled! These delicious stories are not only for the kids of the shorter variety—and their tween and teen counterparts. This vast collection is also for the kid within us big people.
Listened with my six-year-old and without her.
We listened in languages we knew and in some we didn’t. Along with watching soap operas in a language you want to learn/improve, I say kid’s literature is one of the best ways to do it.
Monday and Tuesday March 31st, 2020
Admittedly, I’ve always been quite process orientated. Completing the finished product was in some cases very important but certainly not always. If the process didn’t feel enriching or authentic, the final outcome never felt rewarding, meaningful. I don’t do well with standardized testing.
And so, in these times, it has dawned on me to come back to the process. To start things, to continue them, to perhaps tuck them away and come back with new eyes—with new worries and weights, with new insights and wisdom. There is time now for layering, reflecting, abandoning and returning to (or not).
On our walks, we continue to decorate walls with our chalk. We start fresh. We return to ones we started days ago—they are faded and need touch ups. We talked about bringing a wet rag next time to make changes. As we walked, we practiced ‘Blackbird’. My six-year-old has learned the tune and the words much faster than I. She makes me practice. Tells me I’m doing a good job. For the first time in my life, I sang loudly. It was outside. And I hoped people could hear.
Sunday, March 29th, 2020
Yesterday, we brought chalk on our daily walk around the block. The day before, we had started to look for places to draw—blank garage doors, abandoned school walls, empty parking lots. It was now time for action—perhaps the beginning of a lovely ritual.
I wrote for myself as much as for those that may pass by.
Maybe our work will get a little fancier, a little more intricate over time.
A couple of weeks ago, my kiddo had learned how to draw viruses—from a random library book she had copied. Well, she got straight to work with that chalk. Rest assured, she then drew a big X across the virus!
Artists, I thank you in advance for the beauty I’m sure you will bestow on our ChinaTown walls.
Saturday, March 28th, 2020
I don’t have a musical bone in my body. But hey, if there were ever a time to grow one.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Blackbird is one of many songs that my mom has always sung around the house. And it’s time to start singing along.
I’ve looked up the lyrics. Copied them down. Learned the first two lines. My daughter needs to sing the opening line first to remind me of the tune. Then off I go. We’re gonna baby step this.
Ma, looking forward to singing for you when we chat tonight. But I will be a little shy.
Friday, March 27th, 2020
Sometimes to unwind or to slow a racing mind or to surrender to intense anxiety, I have often turned to the process of copying—passages, poetry, quotes. The pen gliding across lined paper. The satisfaction of a finished piece of work—especially when nothing else seems to get done.
I did this last night by candlelight. There has been so much inspiring writing shared online as we face this tough chapter. However, for my brain, less is more.* Once I find a delicious piece, I reread and recopy it—often again and again.
*I am building a bank of writing, though, that I suspect to be wonderful. I will slowly read and copy it down, cherishing the process as best I can. If anything comes to mind, please do pass it along. x
Thursday, March 26th, 2020
Painting the beginnings of a unicorn castle is glorious work. There’s a lot of indulgent details to think about. In an effort to make our paint last a little longer, I chatted with my daughter about wallpaper. I don’t think my six-year-old had ever come across it. And so we are glueing some coloured paper along the egg-carton walls.
The Last Few Days
Sat still and couldn’t sit still. Did a lot and did nothing.
Was reminded of travel. When it would take me two weeks sometimes to just function from micro step to micro step. Find next meal. Done. Figure out bus schedule. Done. Ok, next meal. Done. Ok, find pharmacy. My brain and heightened senses were completely overloaded. There was no big picture planning. It was one foot in front of the other until I got used to a (temporary) new way of being.
My brain, my whole system is recalibrating to this newness. And not under the circumstances of lovely chosen travel. This has been bestowed on myself and everyone who passes me on the streets from six feet away. And loved ones, and you dear reader.
I’ve listened to many of us express frustration and overwhelm at not being able to DO anything. (My lovely neighbour is making piles for now—of books, of paper, of ideas.) And I’m brought to an image of a child trying to learn how to read as clowns dance around her.
The clowns will slow down. They’ll eventually stop dancing and want to learn how to read too.
Saturday, March 21st, 2020
-Continued to work on our unicorn castle (with and without my daughter).
-Noticed I needed a nap and took one.
-Had hallway coffee with my neighbour. We made ourselves comfortable with pillows and chatted down the hall.
-Called Eddie today. We had briefly connected and said we would chat in a few days. This morning I needed a lift and had a great chat with a ‘fresh’ person. Thank you Eddie.
-Skipped for five minutes.
-Listened to ‘The Tortoise and the Hare’ audiobook on YouTube…and The Three Little Pigs…and a Roald Dahl story. That’s good stuff.
-Teaching my six-year-old multiplication for fun (not out off any obligation)—or perhaps, rather, witnessing her discover multiplication…Wow, look what happens when you draw 3 groups of 5 tally marks…and again when you count out 3 groups of 5 beans…and how can 5+5+5 be the same as 3x5?! (This is so joyful for me—to be able to teach math in a way that aligns with deep learning. Bliss.) (Note: instead of ‘times’ I read the x as ‘groups off’. As a teacher, I’d be happy to brainstorm some strategies if you find it tough to ‘teach’ a concept.)
-Apartment tidy.
-Logging continues.
Fyi, I’ve started to collect what some of you have been doing—and not doing and thinking about doing when the time is right—and will post them shortly. But for now—it’s time for a strong cup of coffee and to make another little chair for the unicorns.
Friday, March 20th, 2020
-Started building a unicorn castle (thank you egg cartons). Noticed that I was just as into it as my six-year-old.
-Made a small table and chair for unicorn castle. (No children required for these projects.)
-When I woke up this morning with panic, I said, ‘Hello, panic' and was very gentle with it and myself: together we slowly got up, washed face in cold water, made hot cacao, went for a quick jog, had a nutritious breakfast and then called my aunt to say hi. She told me all about her grandmother who had 11 siblings.
-Braided my kiddo’s hair.
-Skipped the news and asked a friend to pass on anything I would have to know. No radio today.
-Took a shower (I am happy about having to take less showers these days but it was time!)
-Continued my daily logs.
-Had a great Skype date.
-Read ‘Where the Wild Things Are’.
Thursday, March 19th, 2020
-Booked a Skype date for 10:30am tomorrow.
-Went up and down the stairs of the U of T bookstore—while doing so realized that I was doing it in order to have something on the list. Ha. Thank you, list.
-Noticed that my brain is jumpy and foggy so started a log of when I take my medication.
-Designated a small table for chaos: a place where we can throw things whenever we want.
-Realized that ‘being productive’ is, for me, redefined at this time—and will continue to redefine itself.
-Noticed that it was a ‘keep moving’ day. (Am expecting lethargic days too.)
-Apartment is tidy.
-The logging continues: who I’m thinking about and will reach out to/who I’ve been in touch with today/medication/ideas of potential projects.
-Noticed that I haven’t been writing as much and remembered that it is a valuable tool for me.
-Noticed how good I felt after frank and heavy chats with my brother and friend.
-Read ‘Where the Wild Things Are’
Wednesday, March 18th, 2020
-Thanked the mail carrier through the window.
-Last night, I said out loud to myself: “Nina, it’s 1:10 am, go to bed.” And I did.
-Decided to participate in an online class (that was meant to be in person) with the awareness that it is a ‘for now’ decision.
-I started knitting a scarf for my kiddo’s blue penguin.
-Initiated a nice convo with my co-parent to touch base.
-Noticed that I will have to carefully balance screen overwhelm with need for connection (a ‘to be continued’ for sure).
-Started a project with my daughter. On our walk today, we started collecting data--a tally mark for every ‘Green Pass’ we saw in business windows. I’m excited about where this will lead for her/us. (I have always LOVED project-based learning—as a kid, a teacher, a writer, a mama etc.) —Get in touch if you want to brainstorm a project of any kind for yourself, your kiddo, someone you want to engage…
-Apartment is tidy.
-Updated “People Log” (List of peeps I have been in touch with today. I include the medium we used—phone/Facetime, etc.)
-Said, “Oh, hello anxiety.” when I was getting angry about something that happened a long time ago while venting to a friend this morning. (My anxiety and my anger often dance together. For me, naming anxiety can stop it from expanding.)
Tuesday, March 17th, 2020
-I pick up my phone every time it rings
-struck up a conversation with the salesperson who called to sell me a window cleaning service (Fyi—as of about 2pm yesterday there were 38 cases reported in Pakistan. Spirits are high.)
-said ‘yes’ when my (heavy) six-year-old asked to go on my shoulders. I lasted a couple of blocks.
-taught my mom how to use Google Hangouts over the phone
-started a log of who I am in touch with each day
-added names to my ‘People to Call’ list
-cleaned, put things away, vacuumed (This is huge for me...this always takes great effort and so I get great satisfaction from staying on top of clutter/mess)
-covered my ‘work stuff’ with a beautiful cloth when I am not working
-moved our big kitchen table into the south-facing living room so that we could work in the sun
(The kitchen is now an open space. My kiddo calls it her ‘dojo’.)
Monday, March 16th, 2020
-called 3 of the 6 people on my ‘People to Call Today’ list
-had coffee in my favourite orange mug
-went for a walk (even though I didn’t feel like it)
-strived to make eye contact and smile at others (Still possible from 6 feet away..phew.)
-listened to a Sherlock Holmes short story on YouTube
