Things I want to remember


Pink hair he painted himself. Pink is his favourite colour. How he copies us and learns so fast. His fascination with my make-up bag — the eye liner he daubed on his eye lid when I wasn’t looking. Lipstick dabbed on, too. He’s always dancing, he’s like our own miniature Billy Elliot. Pingu and Tractor Tom. Tractors and trains in general. Going to the zoo and seeing the lion cubs! The penguins! The snakes! He liked the lizards, too. Making some cooking — his recipe included 2 eggs, milk, grated ginger and apple (he insisted on them being grated), biscuit crumbs and purple food colouring. Skyping with nana. He knows his way around the iPad better than me (he calls it the “pie pad”). Spinning round till we fall over — he giggles and shouts “wobbly! wobbly!” meaning he’s dizzy, then falls over (I lasted 4 goes at this and then was so dizzy i thought I’d throw up. Noah was not fazed by this in the slightest and insisted we “DO IT AGAIN!”). Dancing to this over and over. Balloon football with daddy. Bedtime snuggles on the sofa with mummy. He uses his potty like a champ! Singing songs from Tangled – when he sings along to this one i have tears rolling down my cheeks, it’s just so sweet and touching. I get spontaneous kisses now, and even when they’re snotty and mixed with broccoli, I treasure every one.

He is my favourite boy in the whole wide world.


Something for the weekend


Looking forward to the Women of the World Festival at the Southbank

[video] How big is the universe… compared with a grain of sand?

A decade of thriving with cancer — from Kris

Love these thank you cards | this Moleskine cover | this lipbalm

How to read like a writer

Vocabulary of coffee bars (via Sas)

Richard Olsen’s handmade houses

Purple sprouting broccoli with olive oil mash | kale rice bowl | roasted sweet potatoes and spicy feta-olive salad

Social media dos and don’t — smarts from Grace & co

The Nu Project — nude portraits of women like you and me (via Hannah)

I want to go see this

Fascinating: colour blindness simulator

Oh, to live in San Francisco (scroll down to see the view from his deck area!)

Lessons in love learned the hard way — musings from Oriah

And finally, such a powerful and brave post from Lisa

xo

A big red heart


I remember making a Valentine card for the boy I liked in my class. His name was Justin and we were probably about eight or nine — it’s so long ago I can’t really remember. But I can see the card — it had a big red heart on the front (of course) and I dowsed it in perfume. It reeked to high heaven. I left the card by his coat peg. I don’t remember if he responded (unlikely) but I remember it felt good to tell that sweet blonde-haired boy who was good at football how I felt.

There have been many Valentine cards sent and received over the years. I remember our last Valentine’s Day dinner, eight years ago. I remember our conversation, the wine, his hand on my thigh. I remember the long kiss standing outside the front door before heading inside to bed, to the solace of each other’s arms. Three weeks later he was dead. No more cards, none I can see with my eyes, anyway. But I know he’s here today, my old companion from another lifetime.

I have known big love, and I am sure I will know it again. I have no one to buy a Valentine card for today, and none are coming through my door, but I am perfectly okay with that. I have my own sweet company, and that is a lot, my friends.

To me, that is everything.

Happy Valentine’s Day x

Self-care in the Real World

Self-care in the Real World | SusannahConway.com

 

“One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.” – Iris Murdoch’s protagonist in The Sea, The Sea

The quote above was number 27 on my list of 40 lessons learned in 40 years — I like it so much it’s even mentioned in my book. I’m a passionate believer in the wisdom of giving oneself regular small treats. It ties into my philosophy of showing myself kindness whenever I can. Because I’ve spent a lot of my life being decidedly UNkind to myself. Honestly, no one could ever say anything meaner to me than some of the rubbish I’ve told myself — still tell myself, on the bad days. But these days I try to do better by myself. I consciously try to be kinder. And it starts with the many layers of self-care.

The first layer: the quick fix

I have a tendency to spoil myself as if I were my own overly indulgent relative. If I want an almond latte I go get an almond latte. I spend an absolute fortune on books. I buy myself flowers and scented candles occasionally. I own a ridiculous amount of perfume. On really icky days I get out the big guns: new Spotify playlists (hours of fun!).

I know I buy myself presents to make up for the fact that I’m single (“I haven’t had sex in *cough* a long time — I deserve this Diptyque candle!”) When I’m no longer single I’m sure there’ll be other reasons to justify the presents. Self-care that involves spending money in this way is more of a quick fix, though one that’s certainly pleasurable in the moment. And I’m okay with the occasional quick fix — it always brightens my day.

The second layer: the reactive

The next layer of self-care is responding to how I’m feeling at any given time with a kind action. Sometimes I worry this type of self-care is simply laziness. When I stay in bed an hour longer… when I go to bed an hour earlier. When I take a long bath instead of dealing with my inbox. When I give in to the mid-afternoon chocolate craving… it crosses my mind that I’m far too lenient with myself, because somewhere inside me is this twisted notion that Hard Work is the only way (and this applies to everything, not just paid work). But experience has taught me that it’s better to attend to my needs rather than push through and ignore them. This means that if I wake up with a headache I’ll do the bare minimum needed in the morning then let myself have the afternoon on the sofa. If I’m feeling upset about something I’ll be extra gentle with myself, doing whatever I need to work through the issue (phone my sister, go for a walk, journal); often I just need to get out of the house and reset my brain.

The third layer: the self-investment

This last layer takes a bit more effort but the benefits will be felt for years to come. At the moment my biggest self-investments are my weekly sessions with a therapist, my gym membership (I’ve been 3 times, people! I’m going to make this happen!), and going back on antidepressants. I view all of these as the absolute best way I can take care of myself right now. Working with my therapist gives me space to unravel my head; going to the gym will eventually bring health and stamina (I hate going but the smug feeling afterwards is worth it); and the tablets are helping to bring me back up to the surface so I can function in this world like a normal person.

At this time in my life I am my own biggest responsibility which means I have the time and income to invest in self-care, but even when my circumstances change I hope I’ll be able to maintain this practice of attending to my needs — I know it makes me a more considerate sister, daughter and friend. To me, self-care is really self-kindness, and I find the more self-aware I become the more I recognise what I need. In my twenties and early 30s I was less clued in to how I felt, and as a result my self-care rarely went deeper than the first layer. These days my deepest desire is to feel calm, balanced and safe: my three layers of self-care help me get closer to this.

________

Cards in the photo: Intuitive Wisdom Oracle Cards and The Greenwood Tarot (now out of print)