fluffy robe.

Last week was a week that wasn't one of my favorites. I thought about quitting my job exactly 347 times and tried my best to will my brain to a place that was free from responsibility, paperwork, and people asking me questions in the hopes that I might provide an answer. I thought about feigning illness, but karma is too scary, so instead I cried at least three times and only contemplated running away to become a starving writer twice. All in all, I've had better sequences of days.

(For the record, I have a really lovely job wherein I'm surrounded by wonderful people and get to help the most dashing and courageous students you ever did meet. But sometimes it sucks. A lot.)

So, this week, I'm committed to taking better care of my brain. I'm hoping to give it the full spa treatment- I'm talking deep massage, exfoliation, seaweed wrap, steam room kind of stuff- and then I'm going to tell it how pretty it is, and encourage it to book again for next week, and the next week, and the week after that. My brain needs a fluffy robe, you guys. And a mug of herbal tea. I think sometimes we forget to go gentle on our brains - to extend to them the same courtesy we extend to others.  I spend a lot of energy every day putting together plans to support other people's psyches and sometimes I forget to do the same for mine. This week I was reminded that it really is extraordinarily difficult to be good to other people if I'm not being good to myself. 

For me, this means seeking the quiet pockets of time and acknowledging them. It means writing more but not feeling guilty if I don't. It means telling the people in my life that I love them and reminding myself that they love me too. It means saying/praying thank you more than is reasonable and noticing the joy more than I do. It means turning off the T.V. and cutting down on the cheese and putting fresh sheets on my bed. It means taking more pictures. It means child-posing the hell out of Monday afternoon and then smiling about it on the way home. It means saying yes to new things and no to negative things and I don't know if I really don't know. Because, sometimes, I REALLY DO NOT KNOW. 

You know?

So I'm curious: what kinds of spa-treatments do you give your brain? How do you take care of yourself so that you can provide the necessary affection for others? How do you rest and find the space to say thank you when your day has been uprooting and discouraging? 

For now, I'm resting in the knowledge that my days have value, regardless of their weight, and that each morning is a new opportunity to love others fiercely and then tell them that I probably don't have the answer, unless it involves cheese. And, if that's the case, then the answer is always Brie or Sharp Cheddar. 

Bring on the fluffy robe. Spa week, here i come.