I don’t really feel like writing, but that’s why it’s important now to make the effort. Today was full of half-formed ideas, articles I read, comments that resonated with me. Yet I’d much rather just not. I’d rather eat nachos and watch Netflix. Not that I have nachos. I’d settle for laying on the couch in front of where Netflix might be playing and pulling a blanket over my face.
I’ve got to learn to do it anyway of my own volition.
One of the resonating articles was in Forbes. It proposed that self-care is not about indulgence so much as it is about healthy self-discipline. A little later I read an Instagram post of one of my cousins about quitting drinking and I was reminded as I was about to sink into my Netflix & blanket cocoon that disciplined practices, which I generally lack in my personal life, are essential to good self care. I know that I need to eat real food, exercise, make art and write. I know that these aren’t optional unless I also consider self-actualization optional. In other words, it’s cool if I’m also cool being less of me.
I do think blanket cocoons have their place, as do mani/pedis and other indulgences. However, if nachos, Netflix and couch permeates my days more days than not which, except for the variance of whether there are nachos, is fairly reliable then it suggests that priorities are more aligned with binge-worthy TV and less with actual self-care.
So here’s my
effort discipline in action. I commit to myself to write more days than not. Whether or not it’s nicely packaged. Whether or not I’m itching to do it. I commit to do the shit I don’t really feel like before I lose the discipline completely and instead watched six episodes of Russian Doll.