Why Committing to Self-Care Is Important (Especially Now)

September is here. How did that happen?

a shelf in my studio holds one of my calendars

During this month we often get our first killing frost, turning my garden to blackened mush and ending its season of painting inspiration. Is it any wonder that I mourn the coming of the fall?

I know I tend to be overly dramatic about the end of summer, but this time of year can be so hard for me.

I’m beginning this post in my garden. Eating lunch. A simple salad made from a tomato I grew from seed. A squirrel is watching me from the fence with a nut in his mouth. I wonder if he’s the one who has been stealing the peaches from my little tree. I hear a squeak and a chatter and turn to see a hummingbird visiting the zinnias. Then a blur of movement catches my eye and I spot a black and white woodpecker (I think it’s a female downy) hopping up and down the length of the birch tree. I hear a chickadee’s distinctive call while a pair of cabbage white butterflies flutter and tumble right over my head. Everywhere I look I notice something else. Birds. Bees. Butterflies.

I finish my salad and move on to dessert, one of the five peaches I plucked from my tree a couple days ago.

a handful of peaches from the baby peach tree in my garden

It was a little bit early, but I wanted to save them from the squirrels. I think this one is ripe now. You can’t be polite when eating a perfectly ripe peach, and I don’t even try. Yes, it’s definitely ripe. I slurp the juice and savor each bite, eating as slowly as I can make myself.

I’m savoring these moments, too. The lunch date in my garden while writing my blog. I’m contemplating how I want to spend my September.

You’ve probably guessed from the title of this post that I’m focusing on self-care. Oh boy, I think we could all use it.

But why am I starting this post with a description of my lunch in the garden?

One of the things that’s both most important and hardest for me is to be fully present. When I’m present I’m open to inspiration. When I’m present I’m curious, interested, engaged. When I’m present I notice things and ask questions and experiment. When I’m fully present I can connect with the beauty and magic of nature.

a bouquet from my garden captures the joy of late summer

It’s hard to be fully present. We’re constantly faced with so many distractions. Daily life. Families. Jobs. Worries. Anxiety. The news. The internet. Our runaway imaginations. Ideas. Plans. Our bodies.

Focusing on being present, slowing down, single-tasking… this is self-care.

At least for me it is.

Self-care can mean so many different things. Earlier this week I shared a link from Modern Daily Knitting with my Joy Letter subscribers.* I love what Max says about looking at our self-care practices honestly and without judgement and agree wholeheartedly when she says:

“The coming months will be challenging, and whatever we can do to support ourselves with kindness and generosity will help us get through and better set us up to be of use to others.”

A couple other things that are making it onto my self-care list:

  • getting back to regularly practicing yoga

  • walking (for me and not just my old dogs)

  • making sure I always have a big stack of good books to read

  • taking time to play in my sketchbook every day

  • unplugging.

So, do you want to join me?

 

*If you’re not already a subscriber, you can sign up here. I send my email notes once or twice a month (here’s the latest one). They’re designed to encourage and inspire. When you sign up you’ll get a set of free, printable Joy and Gratitude Lists to help you focus on life’s bright spots of beauty and daily graces.