2017 will be the year of self-care.
No more “yes of course! ” when I want to say no.
I have anxiety. I’m allowed to have anxiety. I can choose to explain it or not explain it. I am an introvert who tries very hard to socialize for the sake of my extrovert husband. But sometimes it’s too much and I have to say no. People exhaust me. I don’t have a group of people I click with enough that going out doesn’t seem like a chore. I need to feel safe and comfortable. Large crowds, alcohol, what seems like a million eyes scares the crap out of me. I don’t have panic attacks as bad as I used to, but I can never relax enough to enjoy myself. The next day I’m not recovering from alcohol, I’m recovering from over-stimulation.
I need to be around my animals. Yes, we all love our pets. Mine are unofficial therapy animals. Petting them, hearing their snores and purrs, a soft head rubbing against my palm, a cat tracing figure 8’s around my feet. This calms me, this grounds me. They know when I’m not okay, they know when I need a walk because my thoughts are racing or snuggles when the world has been too ugly.
My home, my people, my animals, my quiet little piece of land – are my everything. This place energizes me, it grounds me, it feeds me. It is my place of solace in a world that’s too cold, too mean, to filled with hate. Home is safe.
Yoga for my soul not just my body.
I do yoga because I love yoga. I change it up so I don’t get bored never truly perfecting any move or flow. This year I start Ashtanga. Repetition of a series of poses that go from easy to hard, following my own breath. I get frustrated with this series. I get mad at myself for not getting it right away. I get mad at my body for not being flexible, for not being looser, for hurting when I twist here and bend there. Yet at the end, during my savasana, I am proud that I pushed through. I look back and realize that I turn my “God why won’t my back bend” to grabbing a prop and letting my body slowly ease into a pose and loving my body for it. Ashtanga slows me down and forces me to realize that yoga is not for perfection. It’s for working out your shit on a mat and coming up gasping for new air at the end of your savasana.
I will write. I love to write. I’m afraid to write. I feel like if I could record my thoughts without speaking or writing it would be better. But that’s nonsense. The words in my head sound amazing. Then I put them down and I tear it apart. I have 3 authors in my family. No, they’re not huge but they’re published. The gene is there. The thoughts are there. The confidence is not. My husband bought me an open-ended prompt book that hopefully will help. It’s not something I asked for – but he saw that I was writing here and thought it may help.
“Don’t avoid the suffering, But don’t be crippled by it.”
Empathy needs balance. I read this on Facebook. The site I honestly hate now. I never wanted to see how hateful people can be. But this I needed to see. I have lost the balance. I have allowed myself to be consumed by the evil of this world, of people I thought I knew, and I have let it hurt my heart and turn it into this dull version of itself. I did become crippled and I barely fought back. I’m going to step back from social media, from the news. I know it’s like putting on blinders and walking through life avoiding truths. But for now, I just don’t want to spend as much time surrounded by negativity. I need to feed the positive, the courageous, the determined, the loving part of me.
I think that’s enough for one year, don’t you? I always hate the idea of new years resolutions. But I think 2016 put us all through the ringer and we need to find the good and the light again. so 2017 will be the year I find my light and share it with the world again.