In recovery, I have been taught how important self-care and self-love is to directing yourself toward a better place in the world. I previously wasn’t aware of either and my broken and scattered self showed its neglect and damage, inwardly and outwardly.
On a recent Saturday night, I was sitting in my comfortable chair, my face tightened by a French green-clay mud mask, and my feet soaking in lavender oil and Epsom salt-infused warm water. Suddenly I jumped up with a fist in the air, loudly reacting to the fighter on the television knocking out his opponent in the first round with an explosive punch.
I created a weekly ritual of self-care in an effort to calm my racing mind and soothe my aching body with some maintenance. I call the night, surprisingly, spa night.
This particular week my spa night overlapped with fight night. The opposing worlds collided like a classical ballet set to Metallica. It was okay though, to continue the metaphor, the ballerinas stayed onstage and Metallica kept playing.
It was an awkward balance but I think that is what self-care is partly about: finding balance. In my case, balance, ritual and self-maintenance seem to be integral parts of self-care as a whole.
Also, I wanted to relay my night of essential oils and flying fists, partly, because it made me think how self-care might be seen as more of a feminine act in contrast to a testosterone-fuelled fight, even though society has progressed with the inclusion of females in some traditionally male contact sports.
Our roles have been played out for millennia; men go to war and women care for the wounded warriors. A lot of our behaviour is stamped into our DNA through, maybe a million or two, years of behaviour. That could be even more of a reason to question it, with the world out of balance with environmental emergencies and continuous war.
I wondered if, partly, I didn’t admit my weakness or show vulnerability because of the masculine role I was taught to play. Maybe that was the path for myself, and others, to being so damaged but not looking for self-care, inwardly or outwardly.
On the other end of the spectrum, people with a polished exterior self, and who consistently display strength, often need a timeout for self-care as much as anyone. We often see examples where the need for balance and time to recalibrate ourselves is not influenced by wealth or fame.
My self-care and maintenance weekly ritual was intended to make me stop and question decisions I make, and my behaviour in general. To assist my anxious soul and, physically, help me look more human and less Sasquatch, some floral scents were brought in to cover the smell of chainsaw gas-scented cologne that followed me.
However, when my spa night collided with fight night, it made me think of the roles we, consciously or unconsciously, play in life. Also, perhaps the need for self-care and self-love could be a path to reflection, renewal and maybe some balance.
Robert Skender is a Powell River freelance writer and health commentator.
