Self-Care, Support and the Coronavirus

Self-Care and the Corona Virus Kriste Peoples
I haven’t always been good about asking for support – and I still wouldn’t call it my superpower. But I’m getting better, thanks to a couple months’ worth of forced physical distance and emotional rollercoastering – and having good people to go the distance with.
 
 
Here are few things I do, places I go, what I reach for sometimes:
 
 
  • daily stretching and meditation (most days)
  • occasional howling at 8 under an open sky
  • running and/or walking with friends
  • sleeping on soft sheets with windows thrown open
  • pausing for ‘no good reason’
  • expressing my love and care and fear and pain
  • dancing down the hallway to my own singing
  • giving myself permission not to be doing stuff every minute
  • writing stories (chipping away at my book)
  • herbal tea, seltzer, earl grey with bergamot
  • audiobooks / hardcover books / softcover books
  • bad behavior and hollering when I have to
  • good music floating through my rooms
  • cold water with citrus
  • colorful toenails
  • soul music
  • deep listening
  • dreaming
  • good shoes
  • elastic waistbands
  • fabulous earrings
  • foul language
  • poems to mull over
  • essential oils
  • belly laughs
  • intermittent snacking
  • lots of veggies and fruit
  • talking with wise teachers
  • moving slowly because why rush
  • crafts, crafts, crafts! (I probably own 12 scissors, people!)
  • incense and candles; they’re calming and smell so good
  • greens! veggies, houseplants, trees outside my window
  • being kind to myself, especially when I’m feeling over it all
  • telling the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable
  • not holding back, as much as I’m able
  • happy tears, sad tears, rage crying
  • touching the earth with hands, feet, body
  • embracing my awkwardness
  • letting myself be enough as is
  • letting people help
  • belly breaths

 

When I’m able to see it, I have a lot more support than I imagined. How about you? What’s working?

Rest and Resistance

Rest and Resistance

It’s been a week, people. Up until 10:30 this morning, no sh!t, I still thought it was Monday.

Last week brought many of us to new edges of outrage, grief, rage, despair, and rage (yes, more than once). Come Sunday, many of us were brimming with joy and pride, all the feels.

I don’t know about you, but quaranteening and this extended emotional whackamole has forced me to explore my creativity in surprising and sometimes laughable ways, and I’m grateful for that outlet. I’ve also been finding new city-bound trails to run and wander and exhaust myself on.

Probably the hardest thing I’ve needed to do — while still having the privilege of an income these days — is re-learn how to rest for real. And not just as a sole response to overwork, overwhelm, trauma fatigue and fear, but as an important part of my own preemptive self-care — before things break down (again).

In the days surrounding the solidarity run for Ahmaud Arbery, I had no idea what to do with myself. I was tired and over every last thing. I talk about outdoor engagement A LOT and one truth is, risks are real anytime we set foot outside (or even when we stay inside sometimes, but that’s another story) — particularly as people of color. Which can make it even more challenging to take to nature for rest and healing when we need it most.

By whatever means you use to resist oppression and injustice, or to cope, or to recreate and refuel, don’t dismiss the importance of rest. In the crush of all the inequity and injustice we see and carry, being healthy and well, rested and happy, caring kindly for ourselves is its own powerful form of activism. To the extent we’re able to avail ourselves of this resource, it can be plenty.