Sunday morning a friend and I went on a field trip to Faville Prairie near Lake Mills, WI.
It had been on my calendar for a month, and I was looking forward to the event because it came at the end of a particularly busy time. An old friend would call this “giving myself a biscuit.”
It was a beautiful sunny morning to visit the prairie. We ambled, looked and listened as our tour guide pointed out the different vegetation. He manages Faville Prairie for the Madison Audubon Society and is intimately familiar with the local flora and fauna. He works on conservation efforts to get rid of invasive species and have a healthy balance of prairie grasses (and reeds in the marshy areas).
A profusion of asters bloomed on the prairie. I never knew there were so many different types. We saw the asters I am used to seeing – blue smooth aster (the larger violet ones) and heath asters (the prevalent white asters growing in large clumps). We also saw smaller more delicate varieties called frost asters and calico asters. I was delighted to have new language to better describe the wildflowers I see on my hikes.
In one part of the prairie, we climbed a series of small rock outcroppings to get a better view. This is known as the Lake Mills Ledge, and it’s the same quartzite that populates the Baraboo Hills. In fact, this is the easternmost remnant of the Baraboo Hills spread by glaciers during the Ice Age. I felt a special connection because of that.
I taught two classes in the week before the field trip, and my balance was literally still a bit off. One man very kindly offered a steadying hand as I made my way down from the ledge. It was another reminder about graciously receiving support when needed.
After the field trip, my friend and I went for lunch. The service was slow, and if our food had arrived ten minutes later, I may have had a meltdown similar to a toddler who is overtired, overstimulated, and just done.
I knew I was in need of additional self-care, so I went straight home and took a nap. The same friend who talks about biscuits refers to this as “bringing the day in for a landing.” Everything looks better after a good night’s sleep.
The next morning I was still shaky and tired, so I rescheduled my client in order to continue self-care. I really don’t like to move sessions, but in this case it was drastically needed. I was at capacity for what I could hold. There was not room in my bucket for anything other than resting.
I felt better after another day of self-care.
The pandemic demonstrated the benefit of going at a slower pace. It’s been interesting to watch how easily I get revved up again, so this experience helped me make a necessary course correction.
* * * * * * * * * * *
For healers, teachers, therapists, nurses, caretakers, and anyone who holds space for others, it’s important to realize when we are fatigued. Our ability to take a break, rest and enjoy downtime is what keeps us physically and emotionally healthy and able to do our work in the world.
Please know this:
* It’s okay to cancel commitments and appointments to take care of yourself.
* It’s okay to reschedule getting together with friends to take care of yourself.
* It’s okay to end your day early to take care of yourself.
* It’s okay to get away for a few days to take care of yourself.
* It’s okay to realize that your schedule is too full and you need to slow down for a while to take care of yourself.
* It’s okay to say, “I don’t have the capacity for that” to take care of yourself. (These words come from Heather Plett, who teaches the art of holding space.)
* It’s even okay to opt for early retirement to take care of yourself.
Ignoring signs about self-care eventually leads to compassion fatigue and health issues. The world needs all of us right now to hold light and love and compassion – first for ourselves and then for others.
This work is real, and it matters.
September 29, 2021