So much and so little is happening right now. 

It’s dark in the house, the sky overcast and gray from the recent rains, and I’m wrapped in a Lightning McQueen blanket because my favorite homemade lap quilt is in storage, along with half of our other belongings. I’ve recently discovered the less-cringy side of ASMR, so a “Halloween at Hogwarts Ambiance” video streams from YouTube on my TV, wrapping me in sounds of thunder, crackling fire, and occasionally croaking frogs.  Besides the video, the only sound is the geriatric, overweight labrador snoring in the corner.

I’ve put on a face mask, texted my sister, lost some time to FaceBook, reheated my once-again-cold coffee, and read some of a book that I think might actually be part of a literal answer to a literal prayer.

So much is happening, and also so little.

This moment did not happen by accident.  I’ve done lots of introspective work – and a fair amount of therapy – over the last several years to find my way to healthy.  I have learned so much along that journey.  And one of the big realizations for me is that I need space.  I need nothingness, and no schedule, and freedom, and time. But I’m still human, and still American, and still a mom, so clearly I can’t live that way every day.  My answer the last month or so has been to look at my planner each week and schedule what I call “my day off.”

On my day off I don’t go to yoga, I don’t run errands, and I don’t make a to-do list.  If I decide to get my mat out and practice a little yoga at home, great!  If I walk by something that needs to be done and I feel like doing it, alright then. And if I want to sit on the couch and watch Netflix all day, that’s what I do.

I try hard to get the housework caught up the night before, because mess makes my head feel muddled and I won’t spend my day off cleaning house.  That’s not a day off, that’s a day of work at home.

I won’t make my day off on the weekend, because everyone is home, and I’m mom, and that’s not a day off. And some weeks I don’t get a day off.  No matter how hard I stare at the calendar, every day remains scheduled with necessary tasks that I’m unable to rearrange. 

As I told my sister this morning when we were texting, making time for a day off is a constant battle, and making it happen isn’t easy. Sometimes guilt tells me I shouldn’t, and I definitely still have things I could be doing.  But stillness and rest and recovery and investment in my own sanity are all practices worth cultivating.

I realize that I’m in a position of luxury with my day off, I really do.  And there are seasons of my life when a day off would have been absolutely impossible.  But you know what?  Realizing that I’m fortunate to have this day does not mean I feel guilty for having it.  I wish you could have it too, especially if your circumstances make it impossible.

I think the point isn’t that you take a day off, anyway.  I think it’s that you get to know yourself as well as you know your best friend.  I think the point is that you learn what makes you tick and what makes you explode, and you handle the ticking before the bomb goes off.

Maybe your rejuvenation comes from lunch with a friend, or from getting your house spotless, or from crushing it at work, or from washing your hair, or from reaching out to others who are hurting, or from making a phone call to the friend who always leaves you laughing. 

Or maybe you’re like me, and sitting alone in the car with the radio off and no one talking to you feels like the best kind of special treatment.  Maybe all you can get is ten minutes in a closet, or you can shut yourself in the laundry room and sit on the floor.  (You KNOW no one is accidentally gonna walk into the laundry room.  Can I get a witness?) You gotta seize it where you can.  You think it’s an accident dudes stay in the bathroom so long?  No.  No it’s not.  They’ve got this figured out.  It’s time you catch up.

If you’ve made it this far and you still have no idea what you actually need, maybe I can help.  My day off started because I was a hot mess.  I felt harried and frazzled and irritable and discontent and probably a lot of other things I can’t clearly remember.  I kept thinking “What is wrong with me?  I have no right to be upset about anything.  My life is good.”

As usual, self-judgment really isn’t helpful.

So I stopped asking myself, “What is wrong with me?” and I started asking, “What am I feeling? And what do I need?” No judgment or valuation of the answers, just the facts. Slowly the answers started to come into focus.  I was feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated, and over tired.  And what I needed was a day off.

So today, stop berating yourself for how you feel and stop exploding on the people who love you.  Stop everything right now, take five minutes, and ask yourself, “What am I feeling?” And then, once that starts to come into focus, ask yourself, “What do I need?”  When you take a hot minute to really talk to yourself, you may be surprised how clear and simple the solutions are.

And then make a commitment to do the hard part. Taking good care of yourself is no more convenient than taking good care of anyone else.  But it’s also no less important.  Taking good care of myself means I am a more content, more authentic, more present version of me.  

Everyone who loves me benefits from that, myself included.  Because I love me, too.