Lately I have been reflecting a lot. I’m sure a lot of those reflections will make their way to this page eventually, but the topic for today is maybe what I was scratching at with the suggestion of the North Coast 500 run the other day. In recent times, I have been trying to operate most things from a place of kindness to myself. It has expressed itself in some strange ways, which is what we will talk about today.
I was just taking some things out to the trash (well, it was spent sections of sisal scratchers. I got new sections and replaced in popular scratchers - which also felt good… for not wasting… for doing something easy with big, tangible, visible results), and it was (relatively) cold, so I put on my Dude sweater for being out in it. Without a lot of unimportant detail, the New Year brings, in my tradition, a concentration of carbs and processed foods (pizza rolls, corn dogs) which combined with the liquid part of such celebrations bring a little extra to the old gut. I eat in such a way that when I do reintroduce such things back into the diet, I notice that it negatively expresses in how my body feels. “Don’t do that, then” you’ll say… but the trade-off in good body chemicals from that time makes it worth it. We make our choices.
Anyway, the Dude sweater. I was walking down the stairs with it on and have been feeling like I was carrying extra weight, so… I had the sweater zipped and I suddenly realized that in spite of the way my mental self-image was expressing itself, the sweater was hanging kind of straight down… so I breathed out heavily and told myself “what are you trying to hide. You look how you look”. It never did match the picture in my head. I smiled and took a moment to appreciate. I never have considered my eternal appearance very much, and I’m not looking like the most put-together or body-conscious person out there. What I am is allowing myself to do some simple things (not the sweater per se) and allowing myself to appreciate when I notice something that I wouldn’t always (like the sweater).
For instance, I now sometimes carry a Jack Skellington backpack and I look cute with it. And I like it. So I do it… and it’s easy. I have (with various helps) decorated my fingernails. Am I obsessive about it? No. Are they neat when I see them? You bet. Are they stressful for someone with a compulsion to not mess things up (physical things that you can touch)? You bet. Is it fun when someone out in the world (at the Pharmacy, for instance) says “I like your nails”? It really is. For whatever reason – I could certainly tell you exactly what that reason is – I did not do it for most of my life. Now in this place, though, the time investment is very small… and the happiness return so lasting and in totality so large, that it’s goofy to have not.
The point is, there are a million tiny little things out there that don’t really require a lot of effort but can pay off big in general emotional well-being. Especially in these days if you are trying to act in responsible, safe ways (especially if you happen to be immune-suppressed) and are not getting a lot of in-person social interaction, it can make all the difference. Find your things. Even if it’s something that “people” would judge… “People” aren’t living in your reality. You are, and if it gives you a lift, sir, do your nails. A week from now, you’ll be over whatever energy was spent to make them cute, but you’ll get the lift from the activity for a long time (Colorstreet has lasted for a month at this point). Appreciate these tiny, easy things. Positive, kind thoughts directed at yourself are invaluable… especially if you are chronically ill.
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