Self-Care as a Process of Self-Knowing

If you’ve spent any time on the internet, you’ll likely have found the subject of self-care inescapable. As important as this topic is, the sheer volume of advice, theory, and products available can be overwhelming. 

There are currently over 65 million posts under #selfcare on Instagram. The majority feature skin care, hair care, fitness or diet advice, “inspirational” quotes and selfies of glowing faces and active bodies. To scroll through is to find a very specific, curated subset of people, ideas, and tools. 

I can’t help but think about how many experiences aren’t reflected in these images and words, how many folks may not see themselves as welcome in or relevant to this conversation. I don’t highlight this to knock the creators or substance of these posts per se. Being a massage practitioner, I’m steeped in this conversation and am an advocate of self-care practices — massage being one of many. 

However, I admit that I often take this idea for granted and fail to think critically about what self-care really is, what it “should'' be, and if there are truly any generalizable rules or practices of self-care. I was reminded of the depths of this subject while reading a chapter in Gayle MacDonald’s invaluable book, Medicine Hands. A brief but profoundly insightful passage turned my thinking about self-care on its ear. MacDonald writes:

“The issue is not only how to take [care] of the physical self, it is a matter of [...] coming to grips with the relationship to [oneself]. [One] must prioritize life’s tasks, accept limitations, learn to say ‘No,’ … and find ways to extend kindness to [oneself].”

These words seem to slice deep into the meat of what caring — particularly caring for oneself — entails, beyond the surface-level, visible aspects we see in the spotlight of marketing.

Prioritizing Tasks

Beginning with the notion of prioritizing life’s tasks, we are immediately in the highly subjective, deeply personal reality of each individual life. From celebrities to athletes, researchers to influencers, you will hear specific elements of growth and care lifted up and espoused for their singular virtue. 

You will be told to treat your body as a temple, to utilize precision tracking and feedback tech to optimize health and performance, to “grind” and defeat inner weakness, and so on, ad infinitum (or, ad nauseum). Many of these mantras may bring enormous benefit to an individual. I have personally grown and evolved thanks to the knowledge and narratives of others. 

The vital point I take from MacDonald’s words, though, is that each person must take account of their own life: their unique goals, obligations, passions, and duties, and prioritize these in a way that best suits their needs. No quoted wisdom, tool, or product will have any effect if it isn’t actionable and relevant to one’s own life as it is. I may be inspired to do a long-distance run, volunteer my time at a local clinic, become certified in a new technique for work, learn a cooking skill, and crochet gifts for all of my family members… but if I’m not attentive to prioritizing these goals and rendering them to the time I actually have in a day, I’m setting myself up to “fail” or fall short of my goals.

Furthermore, to recognize this is perhaps the most gracious thing we can do for ourselves, because it begins with our lived life rather than the fabricated future to which we aspire (or, are told to aspire). It equips us to draw the connection between our life at present, and the one we want to work towards.

Accepting Limitations

MacDonald also instructs us to accept limitations. What may seem an opportunity for excuses or mediocrity is actually, I believe, a high calling. To accept our limitations, we need to first recognize and understand what those limitations are. This requires honest introspection, which is not an easy task for most of us. 

I think that this challenge does not end with naming the limitations we have; we can go further and explore our relationship with those limitations. How flexible are they? What would it look like to play with our limits, to reshape them, to invite them into conversation with our abilities and goals? 

As a personal example, for most of my adult life I had a very hard time getting going in the morning. I would “hatch” slowly, with little energy or capacity for focus at first. I knew I wanted to exercise in the morning and start daily tasks earlier, but I kept running up against the wall of what my body and mind felt like for the first few hours after waking. Muscling my way through it proved to be unsustainable — and let’s say it ‘compromised my pleasantness’ towards others as well.

The key for me was to shift my view of this limitation I’d encountered. I learned about the power of spending time in morning sunlight to shift my wake time from an episode of The Huberman Lab Podcast. I began dragging myself onto my stoop each morning, bundled and bleary-eyed, focused solely on my comforting cup of coffee. Soon I found I was waking earlier, slightly more alert — not jumping out of bed by any means, but a noticeable change was occurring. Fast forward nearly two years, and I’m almost thoughtlessly lacing up my running shoes by 7am each morning, a feat I truly would never have thought possible at the outset.

This is just one example of noticing a limitation or obstacle and digging deeper to understand my relationship with that “limit.” It started with asking questions: What fills me up with energy? What depletes me? What makes me feel motivated to accomplish more, and what do I get hung up on? Gathering information and useful tools to approach my obstacle was the next phase. I don’t have it all figured out, but I have learned that starting to draw specific connections between my self-care activities, goals and obligations, and my limitations can give me insight into how I can work with those limitations to prioritize, plan, and act.

The self-improvement arena often moralizes liberating ourselves from our limitations, glorifying defiance of them, even demonizing them. But I think there is folly in not recognizing and honoring our unique limitations. They are as much a part of our narrative and compass as are our dreams and strengths. They speak to who we are, what we’ve experienced, and what we’ve overcome. They are the context for our future goals and triumphs.

Extending Kindness

When it comes to self-improvement and self-care, I think that our ambition can often get in the way of our efficacy. We may set goals without taking into account the way our life actually looks, and then find ourselves defeated and ashamed that we didn’t live up to our expectations when, in fact, those expectations weren’t realistic in the first place. 

I see the idea of extending kindness to oneself as a clear-eyed look at what our life entails, followed by an honest rendering of goals and expectations. This doesn’t mean cutting slack or lowering expectations; it means adjusting expectations so that they are realistically challenging. Finding inspiration to succeed in a meaningful way is more an act of self-love than setting yourself up for despair and shame by importing standards from others.

Learning to Say “No”

Sometimes the greatest way we can support ourselves is to make boundaries. This may involve saying “no,” which I believe is much harder for most people than we realize. Perhaps it means passing on a social event when you know you’re nearing your capacity that week; maybe it’s being realistic about taking on a project or task at your job for the sake of doing thorough, quality work. In my life, this is often something as simple as keeping my mornings free of commitments so that I can complete my routine of physical and mental care practices, because I know my energy, focus, and mood will be far better for it.

Other times this “no” may be monumental — ending an unhealthy friendship or partnership, abstaining from a substance or activity that is detrimental for you, or declining a lucrative opportunity. These are, of course, not simple or easy boundaries to draw. Doing so may require significant support and resources, but learning how to navigate the process can become one of the most valuable tools of self-care you’ll develop.

Final Thoughts

I recognize that I’ve ventured into pretty abstract territory here. Maybe this approach isn’t what we typically think of when we enter discussions about self-care. My hope in sharing these thoughts is to invite a different perspective on what it looks like to genuinely care for the whole of oneself. 

It is a perspective that I hope also holds space for the vast array of beneficial advice that is out there, the valuable fruits of many people’s labors in this topic, and the individual experiences of people exploring, challenging, forgiving, and caring for themselves. 

To harken one last time to MacDonald’s passage, I’ll end with this query:

How can we remain diligent in growth, while extending kindness and grace to ourselves and others?

References:

MacDonald, Gayle. Medicine Hands: Massage Therapy for People with Cancer. 1999. 3rd ed., Scotland, Findhorn Press, 2014.