Leaving the cave

For the past week, I’ve given myself total permission to flake out. Do nothing. Be completely unproductive. Sit by the ocean and stare, all the while creeping out the locals. Sit in sunbeams and pretend I’m a cat. Whatever I felt like.

I have drunk inordinate amounts of tea and eaten inordinate amounts of homemade fudge. I have cooked delicious meals and completely ignored any kind of marketing or art or anything that I felt I “should” be doing. I have spents hours on the phone to friends, forgotten to put laundry in the dryer and been essentially non functioning at the smoothie job.

And it’s starting to have an effect.

Yesterday, out of nowhere, I had this overwhelming urge to think about my website redesign and my eventual shiny new and better than ever relaunch. So I just sat with it. Jotted down some ideas, played with colour schemes and colour wheels and thought about exactly what I wanted my website to do.

And ideas came. They snuck up behind me and whispered in my ears. They peeked out from behind the couch and danced in the shadows of my desk. I stretched out in a sunbeam and let them play on the page. A vision began to form, gently, like molasses. I’m starting to see where I’m going.

I haven’t painted since last week. I just couldn’t force myself anymore. Today, the urge to get back in the studio is tickling my spine and running across my shoulders, making me shiver. It’s not quite time yet, but soon, soon.

Slowly, a tiny little step at a time, I’m coming out of the cave. I’m venturing back out into the sunlight, where I can be seen. I’m shaking myself off and looking around. And when I’m done looking, I give myself permission to retreat back into the cave.

The thing to remember is…

The cave is always there. For the longest time, I had this pattern where I’d go into the cave, cocoon and get ultra protective, and then when I felt ready, I’d go back out into the world, and repeat the whole thing all over again.

But what if I never left the cave permanently? What if I gave myself the option of retreating back into the cave anytime I needed it? Gave myself an afternoon a week, where guilt free, I could sit by the ocean as long as I wanted, or hang out in a coffee shop, or read a book all afternoon.

I’ve come to realize that self care has to be an ongoing thing. I can’t just make it my emergency solution. I know that this is obvious and on an intellectual level, I got it. But now, on a soul level, I get it.

I have to make my health, my sanity, my spirit the very first priority. Number one. No arguments. That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to sometimes work long days – but it’ll be because I want to, because it feels right and it’ll come from a place of passion and not this desperate pressure that I often force on myself.

I am, in fact, actually allowed to love the work I do. I am also allowed to take a break from it. As many breaks as I need to stay sane and healthy. I don’t need to work ten million hours a day. I’m allowed to have at least 8 hours sleep at night. I’m allowed to eat well and take weekends off.

I’m allowed to meditate and journal and do yoga every day without feeling the guilt that says “I should be working.” I’m allowed to light incense in the middle of the afternoon, just because.

Basically, I’m allowed to enjoy my life. And I’m allowed to do whatever I need to do to enjoy it. No guilt. No shame. No shoulds.

Just taking care of myself, doing what I love and sharing that with the world. Everything else will work itself out just fine.

Tags: cocooning, recuperating, self care, self nurturing