fix all the things around you —
clean the house/
mend the pile sitting to the sides/
ask for promotions at work/
and give every animal in the house
a clean bill of health/
and of course
care for your chosen people
one
by
one
and maybe
after all that is done
you’ll feel like you can maybe
allow yourself to look inside
and start to attempt to
fix
yourself
[just kidding, the outside fixes never end
but you’d rather have it that way anyway
wouldn’t you?]
calming massages
and meditations
and stretching in mornings
[or evenings]
and taking deep breaths
and being thankful
and all the things i know would help
but i either forget about
or never have the time
or, more often than not, i feel like i’m undeserving
of the care and its after effects
and i just wish i could somehow convince my full self
i’m allowed some kind of
self-care
[and maybe even remind myself
that it’s imperative
to take down settler colonialism
and capitalism
and the white supremacist patriarchy]
over ten fucking years ago now
i traced my hand on a pice of notebook paper
tore it out, and passed it around
to the different students in my discussion-based
women’s studies 101
[which i’m pretty sure is now called “gender studies”
but like i said—this was over ten years ago]
and we all got each other’s hands
and wrote inside and outside of the tracing
what we liked and noticed about each other—
an exercise in empathy and growth and observation—
and as i worked on others’, feeling bad when i didn’t have much to say about
a particular student whom i hadn’t really gotten to know over the semester, but
i figured that was ok, because we all connect differently,
so i’d probably have a couple generic “you’re cool”s [as was the case with every
grade-school yearbook i’d ever had people sign on the last day]
but when i got my hand back, it was filled with such beautiful remarks,
such elegant and deep observations,
and kind kind words. so many words, i had a hard time reading them amongst others
and had to take the paper home to my dorm to fully appreciate it.
i placed that paper on my wall as a reminder that, maybe, just maybe, i wasn’t
a huge terrible dragon of a human,
a hoarder of souls and secrets, giving nothing in return,
maybe, maybe, maybe i was a decent human—those people who i barely knew saw it
why couldn’t i see it? i put it near the head of my bed, so i could see myself
through other people’s eyes
whenever mine were too unkind
[which was a lot]
i still have that paper, though it is not in a prominent place in my indoor decorations.
i still have that paper and know exactly where it is, because
although i don’t need to read how i’m seen through other people’s eyes
to start to see myself a little kinder, i do need to know that that once happened
and i could access it, were i ever to need the cognitive proof.
i have the memory
and sometimes
that’s enough.
self-care december
we’re doing things we don’t normally do
(and some we do, in fact, normally do)
to see ourselves become the version of ourselves
we/
the planet/
each other
needs
it can be an event
a food
a conversation
a lack of workaholism
a slowing down
a dancing up
a gentle nap with our injured pup
pretty much
anything
we deem
good for ourselves
it should help us breathe through the holidays
it should help us enjoy these dark day times
it should help us get into next year
relatively unscathed
and still breathe through every day
mindfullness
meditation
self-care
no longer foreign concepts to be misunderstood or eye-rolled at
they’re recommended because they work
because repackaged for a non-colonized audience
that’s simply called
living
when i show friends
these words
there is an unspoken trust
and an irrational fear
the trust is to read
the fear is that they
have read
but the fear is also
of breaking of trust
that i am still somehow
too much
and not enough
too many poems
not enough time
in our society
that has no reason or rhyme
for when you’re allowed to just sit
and ponder poetry
and when you have to be hustling
because with self-care culture
relaxation has become another side hustle
and being in the moment
is simply a competition
to see who does it
‘right’
but i digress
and am getting ahead of myself
(or really, beside,
because i’m not sure where this poem
was trying to align itself
to begin with)
whenever i show
a friend
a loved one
this here poetry blog
i am both terrified
that they’ll read it
and terrified
that they won’t
maybe i should publish
the first year
just so new folks
have context
for the rest of this
craziness
i felt so motivated yesterday
(and the day before that)
and i know i did some of the things
on the to-do list,
but i did much less than
i originally
expected
and i need to be ok with that
i need to be ok with that
i need to remind myself that
i need to be ok with that
because otherwise
i’m just capitalism’s
newest victim
and fuck capitalism
~~~
fly
spy
in the sky
i wonder why
you need to fly
around our home and spy
on us
~~~
this
cotton
candy
coffee
is the silliest thing i’ve ever tasted
and it just makes me
smile
smile
smile
~~~
how do i absorb
the lessons i’ve learned
in trying to help others?
i.e. the advice i’ve given,
can i/will i ever
take it myself?
is there ever
a magical wand for
turning kindness inward?
~~~
the poems today
aren’t turning out great,
but they’re not bad, either,
they’re just there
and that’s all they need to be
at this moment
in
time
~~~
do you ever feel
so tired
and yet so hyped up
that you feel like
if you followed your energy
you’d vibrate until
your skin just kind of
shucked itself off of your bones?
…nah, me neither
even when i’m sad
or overwhelmed
with the state of the world
this puppy doesn’t know
this puppy just wants to play
this puppy will look at me
with a tilted head
trying so hard to figure out what i’m saying
this puppy will sleep so peacefully
her feet dance and dance and dance
this puppy may not know
what’s happening
in the world
or down the street
or even fully understand
what’s happening in this house
but this puppy is happy
and that happiness
infects me
infects us
every day
and makes the world’s problems seem
a little
less daunting
for a moment
(and that is what i call
self
care)
getting things done
accomplished
organized
prepared
ready to go
is important.
but so is
chatting
stories
fun
reminiscing
venting
holding space
re-connecting
taking time.
[is this what my therapist means
when she says
‘self care’?]
kipventures 