In defence of non-judgemental self-care

January was peak month for lots of talk about self-care and one particular interview caught my ears and made me start thinking about self-care and what it really means, or at least what it should mean. Two sisters were being interviewed on the radio about their book Self-care in the Real World and I wondered if this would actually cut through the noise and speak to a normal person like me.

One look at Instagram would have you believe that self-care is buying soy candles and wearing loungewear from Toast, so perhaps it was possible to find something from these authors that would resonate.

Unfortunately not. Their advice was well-meaning enough (and by well-meaning, of course I mean as well-meaning as you can be when you are flogging a book). They advocated “putting yourself in your own diary” which actually isn’t terrible advice. I know we all say we are too busy for that, but presumably there are times when we are not parenting or working and could think about ourselves a bit more.

But that was really as far as their ‘real world’ advice went. They went on to talk about food and how we should savour the preparation and eating of food. “Really taste it” As you can imagine, by this point my eyes had started to roll out of my head. I’m not disagreeing that, in an ideal world, this would be my preferred state of cooking, but in the real world this just doesn’t happen. Aside from the fact that cooking dinner is done while trying to tidy the kitchen and dining room, refereeing squabbles and packing tomorrow’s lunches, I cook nearly everyday and if you cook everyday, it becomes a bore. Of course, sometimes it’s an utter pleasure. Pottering around the kitchen of a weekend, baking or filling the freezer, but this is a rare treat, that needs forward planning.

For parents, their advice included “Practice self-care at the same time as your children. For example, a guided family meditation”. I feel that for most people with children, I probably don’t need to say much more about that idea to explain why it’s pretty crazy. *glances over at children doing headstands on the couch*. OK, maybe once in a blue moon you may get your children to all sit still a the same time for 10 mins, but it’ll be rare, right? RIGHT?!

My first thought was how ridiculous that was and wouldn’t most parents agree with me, but then that little voice of doom crept in, whispering to me that I just be failing at the parenting thing, because my children are too feral for meditation. I did dismiss the voice pretty quickly, but it had still sneaked in, making me feel inadequate.

And this brings me to my main point. When did looking after ourselves become something to make us feel bad about ourselves? Self-care seems to mean no sugar, lots of yoga, no screens, buying stuff, well-behaved, chilled out children. INTERNET BAD. MEDITATION GOOD. By trying to care for ourselves more, we seem to have found a way to beat ourselves around the head for not being a better version of ourselves, with children who love a guided meditation.

For me, self-care could mean a frozen pizza for my kids packed lunches, because I am just so sick of making sandwiches. For my friend, Vicky, it’s “crime dramas and biscuits” (which I am totally on board with) It’s a cup of tea and a pile of knitting, it’s a comforting, unchallenging novel, it’s not bothering with dinner and eating buttered toast and jam in front of the TV, it’s a good radio programme or podcast while you fold the washing. It’s deciding against that early alarm to get up before the kids, it’s buying boring, but useful things that you never replace, it’s a glass of wine and turning the music up, so you can’t hear the bickering. (sometimes! I am not a monster!) It’s saying “no, I won’t read you another chapter” or maybe reading them an extra chapter, just because it’s a good book. (For those of you who think this will never happen, just wait until they are about seven and a whole host of brilliant books will open itself to you both)

It is true that often the things that are really good for us, aren’t always the most attractive choice. We could all probably do with going to bed earlier and I can’t say I’ve even regretted making the time to do some yoga of an evening, but neither have I regretted knitting a few rows and bingeing on Netflix. When asked about self-care no-one ever says “oh, I watch TV” but we all do it.

Surely, self-care should basically mean “doing something for ourselves that we enjoy and makes us feel rested, relaxed and at ease”? I can assure you that a guided meditation with my children is not going to do that! Let’s reclaim self-care and indulge ourselves in some good winter tele and a biscuit or two, hey?

Digital Detox lite

The idea of a Digital Detox does not appeal to me. Some may say it’s because I am addicted to my smart phone and the idea of unplugging fills me with dread. I prefer to think of it as liking the connections I make online, enjoying the things I learn from the internet and it providing a much needed break in my day. We’ll stick with that, shall we? 

On a more serious note, I do think that this online world that we live in now gets demonised to such a huge extent and mostly I’ve found it to be a force for good. A pool of like-minded and interesting people. Behind all those pictures, tweets and blog posts is a person trying to make a connection. I understand that behind some of them are people trying to make a negative and damaging connection, I am not entirely naive, but mostly it’s ordinary people, sharing their ordinary lives. 

So, I don’t really buy the need for a digital detox. I know most people who do it extol it’s virtues, but I’m not convinced it’s for me. However, I do think my internet and social media usage needs a bit of a makeover. It needs to go to Digital bootcamp or a Digital Detox lite. 

There’s too much mindless scrolling, too much clicking on links that don’t really interest me, too much time spent moving from one social media app to another without any real engagement, like endlessly opening the fridge when you’re hungry, even though you know what’s in there. However, I’m not doing enough of the stuff that I do enjoy and that does add something to my life. Not enough reading and commenting on blogs, not starting conversations on Twitter and Instagram. Not enough reading stuff that challenges and engages me, stuff that I want to share with others.

So, for the next two weeks, I am going to change my habits. I’ve chosen two weeks, because this week is half term and our routine is so changed with everyone at home that it’s not a real test. You probably won’t notice a difference, in fact you might think I am around more, because you may find a comment on your blog or your pictures from me, but my habits will be different. 

Here are my Digital Detox lite rules: 

– No merry-go-round switching between apps. If I am checking social media, I check each app once and then put it down.

– No mindless scrolling. If I am on the internet, engage with the people there and if I don’t feel like engaging, then I shall come back when I do. 

– Open my blog reader first, before I go anywhere else, visit those enclaves of the internet that people have put time into and that I enjoy visiting the most and because it makes my day when people comment, leave a comment. 

– Set a time limit when browsing. No more standing in the kitchen for half an hour with my coat still on scrolling ( Don’t pretend you haven’t done it!)

– NO clicking on links of things that only mildly interest me. It’s called click bait for a reason. Do NOT fall for it. 

– On a non social media topic, but equally as important. Unsubscribe from marketing emails and delete emails as soon as they come in, if they do not interest me. 

– No screens after 9pm, apart from if I am taking part in the Blogtacular Twitter chat, which is my favourite hour on Twitter each week. 

I am really interested to see if these changes make a difference to my digital experience. I could be proved wrong and perhaps I do need a complete digital detox, but I’m hoping I don’t *clutches all Apple products closely to chest*. How about you? So your digital habits need a bootcamp? 

Slow living and The Art of Hanging Washing

I’ve been filling the many hours of getting a small child to sleep with podcasts recently. I always have my phone with me, but after hours of continually pinging between social media sites, in the hope of finding something new to engage with, the little glowing screen in the dark can become irritating, to the point of wanting to fling it across the room.

After seeing a recommendation for the slow home podcast I’ve been catching up with their achieves and it’s led me to other material about slow and simple living. It’s such a hot topic at the moment, everyone seems to be doing it, but I’ve loved thinking about how I spend my time and live my life and whether it’s fulfilling me and feeding me in the way I want it to. I’m a little torn about the whole subject, to be honest. On the one hand I find listening to people talking about slow living soothing in itself and I can definitely see some changes that I can make which would help me feel less rushed and pressured. However, some of the navel gazing drives me bonkers and I can’t help feeling that some of it just cannot be anything other than smug and a little judgemental, however good the ‘Slow Movement’s’ intentions are.

One of the things that is mentioned, in various things I’ve heard and read is the how the pegging out of washing is a great example of slow living and this got me thinking about the whole topic, as I hung the washing on a cold morning, at 7:30am, to give it at least a decent chance of getting dry in a day. The example of pegging washing is usually given as a choice, a correct choice. By pegging out instead of using a dryer we are making the slow choice.

However, I don’t have a dryer, just as many others don’t. So, what is it that elevates hanging your washing from a laborious chore to slow living? Is it the choice element? Surely, that would make slow living something for only the privileged, of which I include myself. It could certainly be argued that all of this is the realm of the navel gazing middle class, spouting forth about the simple life and living authentically, whatever that means. You only have to look at how searingly accurate SocalityBarbie is to realise how irksome this movement can be. When you are working difficult hours, juggling childcare and just trying to pay the bills, sourcing locally produced, organic bread, is not, perhaps on your list of priorities.

Slow living doesn’t necessarily have to mean not being busy and when you dig down a little, I think it is about a mindset, rather than what you do, or what you earn. Slow living seems to me to go very much hand in hand with mindfulness. Being mindful about what we spend our money on, thinking more conciously about how we spend our time or, in the case of hanging the washing, giving ourselves over to a task. So often, it seems to be one thing. The evil of screens and technology or cutting out sugar and clean eating. For me, this is too narrow a definition and far too prescriptive.

Slow living is not just what you do, it’s how you think. I can either hang the washing in a rush, getting it done as quickly as possible, but feeling pressure because I haven’t left enough time or I can make sure I do have the time and allow myself to feel what I am doing. Notice the temperature outside, hear the sounds, breathe in the fresh, morning air. Even in the depths of winter when there is no chance of pegging out, I can choose a favourite radio programme or podcast and listen as I work or involve Lady Mck rather than shooing her away, because I’m in a hurry.

I know there’s more to slow living than how you dry your washing and I’m learning that it means different things to different people, but I think it can so easily veer into the exclusive territory of the smug or the priveliged and that seems to be against its true intentions. We could all do with a little slow in our lives.