Remembering to take care of yourself.

As writers, we often find ourselves juggling the balance between our creative goals and our every day life responsibilities. I’m sure many of us spend 40 hours a week at a day job that doesn’t involve writing at all. I know I do. Besides that, we all lead personal lives, have families, and tons of chores. Personally, I spend my free time writing and 9 times out of 10 it is incredibly fulfilling. However, there are times when we can get so wrapped up in our goals and progress, that we forget about ourselves. When does it all become too much?

When I was thinking about writing this post, I was further fueled by the unfortunate passing of one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. For me, she was a self care poet. A poet I would turn to when it all just seemed too much. I want to now take that self care mindfulness and give it to you. Take a moment to ask yourself the last time you did something for you.

Trust me, I understand wanting to accomplish goals. The thrill of to do lists and spreadsheets fuel me like a strong cup of coffee! However, sometimes we all have to take a moment to breathe, light a candle, and give ourselves a pat on the back for the progress we’ve made.

Now I will leave you with a poem called, Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver and the hope that you will plan something for yourself after reading this post.

Wild Geese

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.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

R.I.P. Mary Oliver.

Until next time,

Christine

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