self care.
- Evelyn Nguyen
- Jun 5, 2021
- 7 min read
and why we're tired of it.
We spent the entire 2020 on self-care. Honestly, last year was hyper-stressful. We had a deadly pandemic on the background, a disheartening reality of climate change, systematic racism and violence displayed on live television while we wrapped the year with most tumultuous political season of our lifetime. So naturally, we look for mental escapes. We spent the first 6 months excited to try the new digitized (somewhat arbitrary) trends. We baked, we worked out, we read, we made new hobbies, we followed these trends pretending everything is normal. We played with the newfound love and illusion of free time.
Except that it wasn't normal. It still is not normal. No matter how good the sourdough is, we do not want to be afraid of touching bread with our bare fingers. We should not spend more time than we had staying away from people who lacked (or could not afford) face covering. We should not feel wary of strangers, of hearing a sneeze or seeing an improperly positioned mask. We should not validate our own and others' presence by the choice of three- vs. five-layer, or filter vs. cloth. But we are. We are associating people with risks, crowds with spreads, and fun with irresponsibility. And that is entirely not normal.
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A lot of things were abnormal last year, and I don't wish our thus formed habits to become the new norms. We are, fundamentally, social creatures. We still want to go to a real gym, not on 7749 online workout apps. We want to see our friends in person, not on Zoom. Also sit in coffee shops for the sake of sitting at coffee shops, not at home, in our couch, with our 758th cup of coffee. We also want to talk to strangers (i.e. dating app), volunteer, travel, be compassionate and generous. We do not want to be reminded of the 2-7% of risk every time we go out.
So I urge for that day when air is no longer terror, but I'm afraid that it will forever be.
So, my facade shows that I'm well and able. I've been fully vaccinated since January. I go to work every day. I still eat healthy-ish. I occasionally and safely socialize with a single-digit number of friends. I still cook. I still celebrate holidays. I occasionally and safely take weekend trips. But while life is still going on, it is not the same. And I discovered the part that's no longer the same is my mental health.
I might have been too focused on the idea of mental escapade, a delusional kingdom of normalcy, that I forgot to take care of my physical self. Here are some examples: I scarcely shave. I haven't touched up my roots since 2019. I also don't put on (Korean) face masks as often as I used to (face masks had a different meaning before COVID). I haven't stayed on a workout routine since God-knows-when. I am at a saturation point where the things I initially found entertaining no longer delight me. Baking, cooking, home workout, online shopping? I'm so tired of Netflix!
As this epiphany began to materialize, I remember all of my self-care nights before graduate school. Life was not significantly different then: I was busy, I was sociable, and I had goals I needed to work hard for. Maybe now the insecurity of pursuing a higher degree (so high) that looks like an endless dark tunnel is compounded by the seemingly endless pandemic, both of which had deteriorated the authenticity of joy in my daily life.
At the very least I am grateful for what I have, but joy was not a word to describe 2020. Joy was not what I can emulate or spread to others. I stopped publishing when BLM movement started to spread across the country last summer. I still wrote, but I felt that the urgency of the time surpassed my personal need to tend for other matters. The melancholia of the surrounding left me unable to speak. That indescribable air of public anxiety lingered in me through the peak of the pandemic, the election, the riot, and through which I constantly felt the timing was just inappropriate.
But now, I believe that is getting better. Among the scientific community, we feel the evident sense of relief that the new President actually believes in science. He also believes in climate change, in diversity and in systemic equality. He cares, and care is enough to be the role model of 2021. COVID-19 cases are, in fact, dropping as the US reaches herd immunity as early this summer (some expect as early as May or June). Deaths will also plummet even at a faster rate because the highest risk group was given priority for vaccine access. If this continues to be true, we can hope for a return to pre-pandemic normalcy very soon.
As we recover from this dark time, we might experience another Roaring '20s, when the world just recovered from Influenza that had killed 50 millions, or we might experience another post-war 1960's summer: "an ecstatic, Dionysian mini-world sprang up like a mushroom, dividing American culture into a Before and After unparalleled since World War II". So we might cling to the COVID-era "normalcy" that I had mentioned and am afraid of, or we collectively enter a Renaissance period of complete liberation and generosity. Either way, I believe it is a reaction to trauma.
Until we get there, we must believe in the possibility of a future because the pursuit of security is a fundament of well-being. Self-care is the perception of our physical and emotional states.
Are we feeling anxious? Have we enjoyed our meals? Have we slept well? Do we still feel dissatisfied? How are we doing? Self-care is not meant to take our problems away but to give us a sense of positivity and self-acceptance which might influence our perception of the world. Most of us know when we are happy. We often don't know why we're sad. In our happy place, we recognize that in our perception, the world is crumbling, but also in our perception, we trust that everything is going to be fine.
So ask yourself, what makes you happy? I am writing these thoughts because I often forget, and I am sharing them because you might have forgotten too. Remember that life gets dark everyday, but the next morning is always bright. Take care of ourselves!
My Elements of Joy
1. Organization
Organization is not just about the physicality like furniture or Tupperware but also thoughts and ideas. I always have a journal with me wherever I go. I write down lists, ideas or things I want to remember, i.e. list of female designers I want to support (because fashion is a men's world) , my diet principles (diet means a way of eating, and not a weight-loss regime), or a list of scientists and how they're connected. Though this process I accidentally discover that the tenure-ship of creative designers was just as interesting as the tenure-ship of my bosses. I have always been a visual learner, and organization helps me get things off my messy head and my forgetful memory.
2. Productivity
Personally, productivity means having purpose. We go on vacation for a purpose even if that purpose is to do nothing. Even on rest day, I want to feel that I have used up my time. If lie down on bed and watch Netflix, it is still dedicated rest. We should always have a general plan (general because we are not crazy), so that goes my first point. I treasure my time reading, learning, or exercising because such activities are both productive (produce results) and fulfilling.
3. Creativity
I enjoy creativity, whether it is visiting art museums, looking at furniture I can't afford (aka 1stdibs) or writing my blog. Creativity does not mean sit down and paint (which I wholeheartedly recommend) but also means doing something you haven't and typically wouldn't. Creativity could be doing Tiktok (to which I am foreign), making twisted candles (I highly recommend, find link here), even styling a new outfit, reading a new book or thrifting, anything that gets you out of your comfort mindset, is creative. The good thing is that often you can do creative activities with others. My creative wishlist includes pottery, making pressed flowers (like this), and flower arrangement.
4. Sense of Fulfillment
Fulfillment means committing to something meaningful, most evidently like charity or volunteering. We see accomplished people commit to a cause because selfless fulfillment is the text-book definition of happiness. Some of us might say we volunteer for our resume, but I think most of us millennials genuinely enjoy doing self-less good (probably hence I'm doing a PhD). I also feel privileged for the goodwill, kindness and opportunities I have received from others, so it feels natural to want to give back, whether it is donating blood, building houses with Habitat for Humanity, teaching science to underprivileged students, or doing a half-marathon for cancer awareness. Most importantly, it doesn't have to be grande: one activity that has given me a deep sense of purpose is reading (watching documentary also counts), and through that I discovered education activism.
Some books on this topic:
"Excellent Sheep" by William Deresiewicz (link here)
"The Drama of a Gifted Child" by Alice Miller (link here)
"Educated" by Tara Westover (link here)
"How Children Succeed" by Paul Tough (link here)
PSA: Amazon reviews are great but please support local bookstores.
5. Connection
This last element of joy was largely stripped off of us during the pandemic, but to recognize its importance means that we've connected to our inner selves. Some of us connect with nature, with causes, with beliefs, also with our family, ourselves and others. These connections ground us down and keep us secure (providing security is inarguably the most important aspect of raising a child) such that we can go on and do exciting things. We also connect with strangers who eventually become our friends - the bonds are organic (as opposed to "networking"). So stay connected, my friends!
I hope this article surpasses your expectation of self-care articles, which often entail compound nouns like aromatherapy, overnight oats, or 5-minute abs workout. I hope you find your elements of joy, and nourish that joy for that is self-care.//
Best,
Eve
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