Spoonies, you know how we sometimes drift through the day? If we don’t have an external demand shaping our efforts — kids, work, methodical spouse or housemate — then, for some of us, getting through the day can be a matter of bumping or lurching from one need to the next (use toilet, refill water, rustle up food, manage an appointment, negotiate for a ride, do the self-care things that require that up-front energy to make them happen, organize recovery periods from each of those activities…)
Yeah.
An old friend of mine reminded me that there can be a thread running through the day, in addition to the usual “what’s the next task for survival and coping?” —which, let’s face it, gets a bit grim.
We can suggest to ourselves what that day’s thread might be.
This can line our attention up on it, and make the day less annoying and, in some ways, more fruitful. It also comforts the brain & spine with a sense of supportive purpose.
That’s worth a lot.
I mull it over the night before and find myself with a short list. Next morning, I pick one or two.
This also gives my brain/mind the supportive sense of being cared for at the beginning and end of each day.
I picked two this morning, but I can only remember one: calm. Picking “calm” as the thread for today is particularly good, because there’s a lot to do before I get a molar cut & chiseled out of my head with hopelessly inadequate pain control this afternoon, and thinking about that is not calming, but it’s going to happen and it needs to happen. I get to figure out how to mitigate the horror and so forth, and stay in my skin (so to speak) while I prepare for a testing few days of hard recovery.
Because I chose “calm” for today, I’m taking the time to write this, instead of trying to cook soft food, drag out the vacuum, shower, and make tea & take my pills, all at the same time. And doing all of them badly, if at all.
This word for today is providing a good anchor to hang onto as anxiety and the foreshadowing of so much more pain tries to wreck my mind.
It’s not that things are going to be anything other than what they are. It’s just that it’s not actually the end of the world, the wound will heal, and I can weather that process. I remember that when I reach for the word and idea of “calm”.
This is the 4th day and the 4th word since that conversation. It has improved my ability to get things done that are time sensitive, and it’s helping a lot with getting through this testing day.
I used to do this years ago. It’s amazing what we forget.
I’ve already vacuumed and breakfasted, and did them well enough (my vacuuming kit is in the picture below. Check out the padded suede gloves to cut the vibration from the handle!)
Now for tea, pills, quick washup. This is do-able.
Calm. Calm is good.