Every time you turn on your computer, there’s some story or advice about the importance of self-care, especially for women.
We read about how we need to get more sleep, which has the effect of keeping us up all night worrying about the bad things that will happen if we don’t. Or this doozy a while ago from Christiane Northrup where she advises caregivers to be sure to eat a balanced diet, get exercise and “indulge” themselves.
Let’s be real for a moment. The job of taking care of aging parents can be a total life destroyer. It takes your money, your time, your ability to work, your friends, your relationships, your ability to do the things you love, or even to take a rest.
I just don’t think it’s particularly helpful for a celebrity doctor to remind us to take care of ourselves. It’s like telling someone wandering in the desert to be sure to drink plenty of water. It just becomes one more impossible standard against which we’re bound to fail.
Friends, there’s a whole self-care cottage industry out there and lots of folks are making lots of money selling books, magazines, politics, religion, you name it, all by perpetrating the “Do-It-Yourself” myth that we are each of us, alone in charge of and responsible for ourselves and only ourselves.
The Daughterhood experience is like DIY on steroids. Caregivers are overwhelmed, doing a lot of hard work all by themselves. It’s easy for us to buy into the notion that this is how it’s supposed to be.
Don’t believe it for a minute. The next time you feel like a failure, just remember you’re doing a job by yourself that a strong social and community-based fabric is supposed to support. And instead of feeling like a failure, maybe it’s time to just get a little mad that you’re doing it all alone.
But, for a moment, let’s consider an alternative. What would it be like if we could take care of each other in an interdependent web? A web of communities providing support through meetings and groups where we can connect with other daughters (and sons). What if we had financial support for adult day care and home care, or if employers understood and saw themselves as part of the solution rather than being part of the problem.
Sadly, we’re not there yet. But we’re getting there, in baby steps. That’s what daughterhood circles are all about. Building a community. A community that brings the power of friends helping friends to every aspect of caregiving.
Ok, now that I’ve had my say about that, I’m going to indulge in a little self-help talk here. Rather than putting pressure on ourselves to take a break we can’t take, how about if we all just get really good at practicing extreme imperfection and recognizing what we’re doing right – even the slog that caregiving often is. Could this be the ultimate act of self-care?
We’re slogging through every day. Yes, of course it’s overwhelming but we’re getting it done. We ARE creating better lives for the people we love, despite the fatigue, despite the insecurities and the never-ending to do lists. Despite changing your Dad’s diaper twice a night. Despite the longing for retreat – for a few moments in a quiet corner with a book.
But we don’t retreat. And this is no small thing. This is something BIG.
When a girlfriend and I were marveling at the challenges of parenting with post-partum depression (we both had it), we had a term for the feeling we had much of the time: “white knuckling it.” But she said something that really buoyed me: A “white-knuckle” mom is still a damn good mom.
So, don’t let the self-care experts dupe you into thinking there’s another thing you need to do to be better. Because even though it doesn’t feel like it, if you’re a caregiver slogging through life, you are succeeding wildly at it.
Friends, in the end (as the American spiritual teacher Ram Dass said), “we’re just walking each other home.” What we most need and are missing is the support of each other, and our communities. If celebrities want to help, they could focus on making sure we have health insurance, job security, and adequate funding for community centers and meals on wheels, we’d all sleep a whole lot better.