A couple of years ago, I came across an interview where Elizabeth Gilbert talked about tending to herself as though her body were an animal she had to take care of. I think it’s a concept she talks about a lot, because I later found this essay, where she wrote:
Sometimes the only way I can pull myself from the edge of terror or self-hatred is to ask myself, How does my animal feel right now? Then I notice my racing heart, my trembling hands, my shortened breath, my knotted stomach, my shaky legs, my clenched jaw...and I say, "This is no way for an animal to live." I ask my animal what would make her feel better. A walk in the sunlight? A friendly voice? A treat? A nap? My animal teaches me how to take care of her, and she shows me how to care for myself.
What do you do to take care of yourself when your animal starts to buckle? The past few weeks have been a chaotic blur of applications and deadlines and projects, each day whizzing by at a velocity that leaves me feeling whiplashed. Lately, I always feel like I’m running to catch a bus, just a minute too late (something I talked about in my last newsletter). I haven’t had much time to do the things that keep me happy and sane, like keeping up with friends, or creative play (I missed sending out a newsletter last weekend!), or working on personal projects. Or sleeping at a decent hour, or just resting, period. I do feel like I’m growing, and things are changing, but so much faster than I can keep up with. I’m grateful, but I’m also tired. I think those two things can coexist, they’re just hard to reconcile.
Recently, my friend Kim told me, “Hustling for your dreams is very, very different from taking care of your emotional/mental wellbeing, though! That stuff is still exhausting because it’s still work, and you still need breaks from obligations that you have placed on yourself.” I came across this question in The Artist’s Way (which I have been neglecting for over a month at this point): “I allow myself downtime to do nothing: seldom, often, or never?” (My current answer is never, but I’m working on it.)
I’m remembering, of course, this beautiful piece by Jenny Holzer:
This week, I’m sharing a poem I wrote called “Animal,” and a digital care package I put together for a friend last year (reading through it again felt like I was getting advice from a past self). Also! A cover of “Animal” by Miike Snow (but to be real with you, Sky Ferreira’s version is the one I think about when I think about this song).
Animal
Let your animal cry
Let her feel the sensation
of sadness in her body,
how sorrow gnaws from inside the throat,
casts a waterlogged heaviness
that slows every movement
Let her feel joy
Let her run circles beneath the rising moon,
implode silently
into fireworks
underneath
a gleaming grin
Let her feel fear, and sit with it
Give her water when she is thirsty,
a little salt to heal a wound
and when she falls into exhaustion,
deep and weary
lead her to a soft bed
and kiss her goodnight
Give her rest
Give her shelter
Give her solace
Let her feel her hunger,
and feed it
A digital care package
Last May, a few months deep into the pandemic, I was texting with a friend who had been slipping into a depressive episode. He was in despair, and I texted, Ok so these are some things that help me whenever I am feeling shitty, which has been a lot lately LOL. I sent him the list below, a set of tools that have helped me whenever I happen to be Going Through It (when I can remember—and take the time!—to use them):
Sitting in the sunshine (minimum 15 minutes, but ideally more) — it’s weird, but it’s kind of like magic, I instantly feel less crappy.
Watching something funny, whether it’s a show or standup comedy. I love Modern Family and Big Mouth for instant cheer, and this gem by the comedian Brian Jordan Alvarez has had me laughing for the past three days—I listen to it whenever I am sad or upset or tired and it’s like fresh batteries. (I literally remember it at random points throughout the day, like in the shower, and just burst out laughing). (Side note: standup comedy is amazing for bad moods, because it’s literally people trying to pull a sense of joy out of their own personal pain and shame, which is wonderful and empowering even just to witness.)
Taking a shower while playing jazz music. (This is my playlist.)
Doing yoga immediately when I feel sad of anxious. It quiets my mind.
Drinking water and standing out on my little balcony, just to feel the sun on my skin.
Chatting or texting with a friend (in my original text, I wrote, hello I volunteer as tribute!)
Calling or Facetiming a friend or loved one or a family member you feel close to, ideally someone who is fun and funny and will make you laugh.
Drawing or painting literally anything.
Doing an easy chore, like folding laundry, while listening to a funny podcast (my favorite ones are Seek Treatment and Las Culturistas)
Doing something nice for someone, like helping cook dinner or whatever.
Cooking or baking in general!
Writing in my journal.
Rereading a favorite book from childhood. Most of the time, it’s just an illustrated children’s book like…. I don’t know, Millions of Cats or something.
Doing nothing with my sisters. Just having the proximity of another person nearby is comforting (initially, when I first texted my friend, I wrote: interchangeable with friends but this is quarantine so they are the only friends I have ha ha ha ha)
I leave you with some memes that are The Vibe Right Now:
And lastly, this tweet a friend sent me randomly, without context:
Let’s be tender with ourselves this week. See you next weekend.
just wanted to share to you this excerpt from mary oliver's poem called wild geese~ hope you'll like it <33
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
I love yr list. I basically do the same things whenever life is being life.