These days it's essential to engage in some form of self-care. Failure to do so invokes panicked concern from those tapped into today's meditative, detoxative, restorative, curative practices. You might as well run for the caves or fly with birds.
Seriously.
Have you ever tried hopping on a Zoom call and up and saying something like, "I'm not into self-care".
No way. No one is doing that.
Lately I've been afternoon tea drinking.
Not interesting loose leaf tea studied by tea masters pondering brewing impacts of various water temperatures.
I collect those little medicinal, herbal tea packets.
After lunch I sit down and think about what could be better. How is my throat? Am I breathing with optimal ease? How comfortable is my belly? Am I digesting well? Might my vitality or Echinacea levels be improved?
Are there expectations of stress? Ha! Organic Stress Ease - for a relief of tension, and promotion of relaxation.
Apparently there's a muscle detox tea, so hopefully I don't have any
muscle toxicity (can you even imagine) between now and getting that one.
I select a tea and drink it, forgetting entirely about the condition it was purported to address. I'm not even sure the teas are that good or if there's a discernible taste difference. I return to my desk comforted.
Awhile back I asked the Kowalski's clerk for the break-up tea, a single tear trailing dramatically down my face. You can imagine the response. It was a difficult moment.*
Fortunately, there's a fake tattoo for that. More specifically a series of them, outlined as follows.
FIRST: profanity.
Place over gutted heart with massive amounts of drama and pathos, to be appreciated by you and a few close friends who've been preemptively assured the missive is not permanent.
More abstract - represents submerged wandering through oceanic emotional abyss, unprovoked saltiness with others, salty tears in public places, enjoyment of animal stuff.
(Do we like sharks because they're so Machiavellian and super dramatic about eating? They're so angsty. Always looking this way and that, never settling down. They're cool and serve their purpose and all, but this is no way to live.)
THIRD: wise words.
Directive to chill out, do 'still' things. Book 90 instead of 60 minute massage with total entitlement. Take dating book recommendations and try to avoid reading entirely through lens of ended relationship. Shift focus to personal development because growth is neat, plus, oh were you getting ready for a date? LOL. sit down and learn something.
FOURTH: #flyforth
Bury remaining feelings and run away.
HAHAHA. jk.
Symbolic of moving forward + wheels up approach to activities like Sweeneys and Glacier National Park. So, sort of normal life but with more abandon and bald eagle-level freedom of saying yes to things. Not in an overbooking it kind of way, but also not underbooking it. Just a more than normal amount of booking.
In conclusion, I sort of liked having tattoos. We'll see where this leads.
*fictitious scenario.
