Why Massages and Mud Baths Aren’t Cutting It During this Pandemic and What to Do About It.

I attended the Massachusetts Conference for Women today and heard something that stopped me in my tracks. Lisa Damour, Ph.D., and author of the book, Under Pressure: Confronting Anxiety & Stress in Girls, was talking about anxiety and she referred to “disciplined self-care.”

I need to say it again: “Disciplined Self Care.” It feels like it should be capitalized. 

I am slightly surprised that I am not triggered by this term. Self-care, as a term, has always triggered me. It has always felt like massages and mud baths. I know it isn’t, but that is where my brain goes. That’s for another blog.

Because of this bizarre brain trickery, I have had to reframe self care to fit my needs which include boundaries, community, freedom, and choice. I love a good mud bath, but I know I am taking care of myself when I thoughtfully weigh and measure what I say yes to, what words or behavior I’ll accept in my presence, and being able to operate from choice.

And “discipline?” I have a love/hate relationship with that word. I am drawn to it and also have all kinds of stories and judgment about how my form of discipline isn’t the right kind of discipline. And maybe I judged it in the same way I judged self-care. I’ve been shining a light on that shadow in my inner work.

But I digress (duh, don’t I always?).

Disciplined. Self. Care. 

Dr. Damour talked about the Quar and her research that led her to shift what is called for as a way of establishing positive, long term, coping skills for chronic stress. Chronic stress comes when we can’t get a break from the stressor. Self-care isn’t enough.

Chronic stress calls for Disciplined Self Care.

I love it.

She described the need to build physical and emotional care into our lives as a matter of discipline. No matter what. Disciplined self care, she said, would be the practice that helps us cope for the long haul.

If you’ve worked with me, you know I talk about shining a light on our truth which requires us to shine a light in some shadowy places and name what we find there. Often, we find an emotion that we have resisted. Our loved ones often know what’s going on, but we can’t see it. We are blind to what we don’t want to see. This is resistance. 

She talked about the same thing, but she also took it a step further. When we are working with chronic stress, Dr. Damour shared that by adopting Disciplined Self Care, we are building resilience. The Quar is ongoing, so the stress will come and go, but the windows of relief can open further. 

Disciplined Self Care:

  • A sleep routine;
  • a habit of eating regularly and nutritiously;
  • getting our bodies moving; and, 
  • “getting out of our own way on someone else’s behalf.”

This will do the job. 

So there is something to this. If you are feeling the impact of the Quar in ways that feel burdensome, or someone in your family (Your mom? Your siblings? Your kids? Your friends?) is salty or withdrawn or into their negative coping in some other way, suggest they take a walk with you. Make a delicious, healthy, meal. Go to bed at the same time every night. Reach out to a neighbor or someone else in a way that sshifts your focus to be in service of them.

Check in with yourself. Check in on your pals. No one is exempt from the impact of the Quar. It calls for Disciplined Self Care.

What does that look like for you? 

And if this doesn’t do the trick, reach out to me. Or someone else. Ask for help. You might be the one who needs to benefit from the service of another. Allow yourself that. 

That, too, is Disciplined. Self. Care. 

Everything I Need to Know about Social Distancing I Learned from My Insta Pot

1.  Everything takes longer than I think it will; and definitely longer than the experts say it will.

When I bought my Insta Pot, they said, “Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes…” which I translated into 7.5 minutes because I am “efficient”. What they don’t tell you is that after food prep, after pressurizing the pot, and before releasing the steam, the dinner takes 15 minutes. Include all those other processes, and we’re at 45 to an hour. 

As I spend time at home, I’m acutely aware of all the things I think I can make happen. My expectations are not aligned with the accepted social construct of time. If you lived with me, you might have heard me say we could get the yard picked up, the upstairs painted, the basement cleared out, our closets cleaned, the garage bay cleared, and maybe even get a bulldozer to make a new spot for Kayla’s car. This was a problem before the quarantine and continues to be a problem after the quarantine. It’s the KIDS who don’t have work to do. And even that isn’t true. I actually still work for a living so the quarantine hasn’t actually given me ANY additional time. So riddle me that. Mindset (what we choose to believe or not believe about our thoughts) is everything and my mindset, like the marketers of the Insta Pot, is a big, fat, liar.

2.  If I don’t follow the directions exactly, nothing works the way it should. 

Have you ever not put liquid in the Insta Pot? Or decided you didn’t have to saute the meat first? Yeah, dinner wasn’t so good those nights. Or didn’t happen at all. 

I often think I can “interpret” the rules. Or even that I know better than the experts, despite lots of practice being wrong. Cats don’t have dogs; cats have kittens. Why would I think that my children are going to be any different from me? They are kittens. They ALSO think they can be “interpret” the rules. At the beginning of the “social distancing movement,” we told them they could each see ONE friend. That one friend turned into a party. Social distancing wasn’t practiced. Nothing worked the way we thought it should. Just as we shouldn’t make up the recipe with an Insta Pot, I can’t pretend I know more about a pandemic than the public health experts without also accepting that things won’t turn out well. 

3.   If I impatiently rush the process, I’ll get burned. 

When I am feeling particularly impatient about my dinner, I manually release the steam on the Insta Pot instead of allowing it to do its thing on its own. Inevitably, I end up getting burned by that steam, making a mess of the cabinets, and don’t enjoy the process. 

Ain’t that the truth. I know that if I push my way through this quarantine, bend the rules to fit my needs, and leave before I’m cleared, I’ll get burned. Or worse yet, I’ll burn someone else. I’ll end up feeling bad and making a mess of the world around me. 

For today, I’m gonna take out the Insta Pot, read the directions, manage my expectations, be realistic about what I can do and how long it will take, do all my prep work, actually FOLLOW the directions, and if the pressure gets high, I’m gonna do a slow release and not let it all out at once with a blast. I don’t want my paint to peel and I want to keep my environment in tact. 

And just like they spend hours every day thanking me for the dinners I cook, my family will  thank me for these lessons, as well. A girl can dream, can’t she?