Last week, a medical emergency sent my son to the hospital. The experience was overwhelming—for us, and for him. I knew, as a parent, that some day there would be an emergency, but I hadn’t expected it to come so soon. He is barely in pre-school, and although I’d imagined future broken bones or cuts, needing oxygen was not on my radar. No parent wants to see their child hooked up to an IV or struggling to breathe. I felt unprepared, emotionally and physically exhausted, and even angry at myself for not having understood what was happening sooner (as if I could have truly known). Thankfully he recovered quickly, and he is now back to racing us down the hallway, biking as fast as his little legs will take him, and swimming laps around us.
But the whole event reminded me of how fleeting our health can be, and how easy it is to take it for granted when things are going well. When my son is breathing normally, I don’t think twice about it. I don’t consider how his good health is what helps him run into my arms or bike home from school. I don’t think about how it keeps him climbing up a slide or running through a sprinkler.
When things are working well, we don’t stop to think about them. When we feel strong and healthy, we don’t think twice about taking a jog or even walking around the neighborhood. When we are happy, we don’t think about all the times we’ve been sad. When our spiritual cup is filled, we bask in it. When we are well, we hardly notice. We may even take it for granted. It isn’t until something goes wrong that we remember how good we had it.
I’ve been reminded of this many times this year. Since January, I’ve had multiple health flare ups myself—from osteoarthritis (yes, already) to bronchitis to multiple sinus infections and more. It’s been a tough winter, and a slightly less tough spring, and I can only hope I’ve paid my health dues enough to enjoy the summer without incident.
Each time my family or I get sick, I am reminded of how much I’ve taken my body for granted. Yet like most of us, I am also quick to forget to show my gratitude as soon as I am well again.
So here is my reminder—for me and for you.
Take care of yourself while you can. Nurture your mind, body, and spirit. Eat well, try to get some movement in, and get plenty of sleep. Take a slower walk than usual around the neighborhood and soak in the sights and sounds. Take a hot bath or a cold shower to relax or energize yourself. Treat yourself to a little rest and relaxation, whatever that looks like for you.
Remember to be grateful. Appreciate what your mind, body, and soul are capable of. Relish in your physical capabilities and mental ones. Notice what is working well. Be thankful.
Give yourself a chance to recover. When your physical, emotional, or mental health goes south, be patient with yourself. Do not push too far or expect to feel normal right away. Recovering from illness—be it mental, emotional, or physical—is a process. Let it be what it needs to be—trying to hurry it up usually only slows us down. Instead, accept that it may take longer than you are comfortable with or look different than expected. Get curious about what it is you really need to recover, whether that’s good company and good conversation, an extra rest day, a trusty journal, or something else.
Practice self-compassion. Sometimes we’ve developed habits, made choices, or embraced perspectives that have let us to a moment of crisis. Sometimes our situation is simply a case of bad luck. If you are like me, it can be very easy to blame yourself for your situation—to be all together too hard on yourself for things that are actually out of your control. In these moments, remember to practice self-compassion: you are doing the best you can given what you know. You can’t predict what will go wrong or handle it perfectly. Your best may be imperfect, but it is enough.
I am wishing you all a Happy Memorial day with lots of good health and R&R.
📚 I am reading so many excellent books lately! I just finished Maggie Smith’s memoir, You Could Make This Place Beautiful, and it is the kind of book that reminds you that writing can be anything you want it to be. Smith is a poet and her memoir is one of the most uniquely constructed I’ve seen—one only she could have written. I love when artists don’t shy away from what makes them different, but embrace it instead. Things always turn out so much more interesting that way. Highly recommended.
🎤 I am delighted to share I have some new talks in the works! I’ll still be giving my signature keynotes on listening and communication, and I’ve also added new talks on play, burnout, and rest to my repertoire. To book me for a speaking event, reach out.
📖 Blurbs for my forthcoming book, Rest Easy, have arrived! Blurbs are endorsements from fellow authors on your work. They are part of being a good literary citizen and also often the first “review” an author gets of her book. So it was extra meaningful for me to see these two lovely reviews from authors I admire, Eve Rodsky and Celeste Headlee. Take a look, and if you haven’t already, now is a great time to pre-order1 my book to see what all the fuss about.
💜 Thanks as always for reading along and supporting my work. If you like what you see, hit the heart button, drop a comment, or share this with someone you think will love it, too. 💜
What’s the deal with pre-orders anyway?
Writing is an art, but publishing is a business. Pre-orders signal to booksellers, libraries, and other tastemakers in the publishing world that our book matters. Pre-orders can be the difference between a bookstore stocking an author’s book or not. It can help an author get their books in your local library or even make it on a bestseller list. It is also a sign of encouragement from readers. A pre-order tells us that what we’re doing matters. And really, that’s what we’re here for. If you’d like to bring more rest into your life and others, please pre-order now.
I was reminded this week of how grateful I am for the job and role I have created for myself with my current employer. Autonomy, respect, and impact are things I have now *because* I shed a lot of tears along the way.
Suffering is a requirement. We have the option to experience our pain as crippling barriers to growth or opportunities to learn from our experiences and determine how we respond in the future.
Choosing optimism and gratitude, in my experience, have opened opportunities for joy and connection that I would never have dreamed of otherwise