Raspberry Iced M

I have spent a lot of my life thinking about my future self in very dramatic terms.

Future Me will be more disciplined.
Future Me will have everything figured out.
Future Me will finally organize that closet.
Future Me will…

…drink more water.
…exercise consistently.
…manage money perfectly.
…write a blog post a day.
…answer every email.
…read all the books.
…become the kind of woman who remembers to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer on the first attempt.

I expect a lot from that poor woman.

But what I haven’t always done is make her life any easier. And I’m learning that one of the simplest forms of self care is doing small things today that make tomorrow slightly less difficult. Nothing revolutionary. Nothing worthy of a motivational podcast. Just tiny acts of consideration for the woman who wakes up tomorrow morning…to pick up what only I leave her.

And here is a list of things I do to that effect. Very inconsistently. Very “work in progress.” Very “don’t hold me to it.”

1. Document, document, document. I write things down instead of trusting my brain. There’s a calendar in my kitchen, a calendar at my desk, a calendar on my phone, and a hand-doodled calendar in my bullet journal – all containing the same information and all easily accessed by everyone in the family. Having to repeat myself is a big pet peeve. I don’t trust my own brain, let alone the brains of the two testosterone-filled humans in my household. “When do the dogs go to the groomer again?” *points to one of those 4 calendars*
2. I would love to be the type of person who touches laundry every day, but since there are only 3 people in the house, I have scaled back to three loads a week. One load is always a week’s worth of my husband’s scrubs. He works nights. And I don’t need him scrambling to find a uniform at 7 p.m. while I am in the middle of dinner or after a tedious workday. I am doing myself a favor by ensuring that at least 5 pairs of scrubs are hanging in the closet at the beginning of the week. I usually complete a second load of my own clothes, complete with leggings, sweatshirts, and pajamas. And the third load alternates between towels and my son’s clothes. On weeks when my son is with his dad, I wash, dry, and fold his load so that it is ready upon his return. When my son is home, I wash a load of towels.
3. I throw away a garbage bag’s worth of trash every day. Clutter charges interest. I’m a big fan of clear countertops and side tables. I am NOT a big fan of being overstimulated.
4. I pick out my outfit at least the night before, if not the Sunday before, I wear it. This motivates me to do that second load of laundry I mentioned earlier, but it also allows me to become fully awake and alert before making decisions. Granted, most of my outfits consist of black leggings and sweatshirts, but not having to go on an Easter egg hunt at 7:30 a.m. for “my favorite gray hoodie” is advantageous for someone like me who thinks appointment start times are merely a suggestion.
5. I set for myself a “60 second” rule. This one is probably the most inconsistent of any of my rules, but I am tweaking it as I go. If I notice that something needs to be done when I’m in a room, and that task will take 60 seconds or less, I just do it. Hanging up a jacket. Throwing away an empty Dr. Pepper bottle. Rinsing out the sink. Refilling the tank in the coffee maker. The 60 seconds I spend doing something today will save me 60 seconds tomorrow…and a bunch of those – added up – might allow me a half hour more in a bubble bath or to read or sleep tomorrow.
6. I don’t do anything strenuous after about 9 p.m. I have found that my brain is typically fried after dinner. So once I’ve eaten, I find my blanket and my book and the remote and settle in for a few hours of down time. Reading, doodling, writing, studying the Word, watching a new movie.
7. I shop almost exclusively online. Clothes, shoes, groceries, dog supplies. I drove to Walmart yesterday for the first time in a year, and I was immediately reminded why I don’t do that. I forgot three things I needed to get. It was crowded. It was hot. My back hurt. Maybe I’ll try again…next year.
8. I make the better choice more accessible and easier. I have become increasingly suspicious of plans that require Tomorrow Me to suddenly develop extraordinary willpower. If I want to drink more water, the water needs to be nearby. If I want to finish my book, the book needs to be in plain sight. If I want to be in bed by midnight, I need access to my ADHD meds by 8 a.m. While I often once shamed myself for not being more disciplined, I now ask a different question – How can I make discipline more accessible?
9. I stopped shaving my legs every day. I used to. I thought that was a form of self care. And I guess it is. But it cost me more than it benefitted me. The time, of course. But also dry, itchy skin that I would scratch in my sleep to the point of bleeding. And the relationship between frequency of shaves and speed of hair growth may not exist, scientifically, but cutting back shaves to twice a week is what works for me.
10. I do not go into “resource debt.” Money. Time. Energy. Patience. Attention. I am getting better at realizing that just because I can spend something doesn’t mean I should. Sometimes taking care of Tomorrow Me means leaving money in the account. Sometimes it means going to bed instead of trying to squeeze in one more task. Sometimes it means saying no to something because I have already committed enough of my energy.
11. I pray for her. Tomorrow Me can be prepared for some things…but not everything. The truth is I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know what conversation I’ll have, what news I’ll receive, what temptation I may face, what disappointment might come, or what unexpected joy will find me. So sometimes taking care of Tomorrow Me looks like saying a prayer for her. For wisdom. Patience. For help to respond instead of react. For help recognizing what matters. For help releasing what doesn’t. For strength for whatever I cannot control tonight.

I have said before that self care is not nearly as glamorous as modern culture has made it.

I got a pedicure yesterday – and yes – that was self care.

But sometimes it’s loading the dishwasher. It’s plugging in your laptop. It’s logging out of Facebook for the night. It’s making the phone call you’ve been dreading for two weeks. It’s choosing not to send the angry text.

And sometimes it is doing one small thing today because you know the woman who wakes up tomorrow will be grateful you did.

We are not just responsible for the lives we live in this exact moment.

We are also responsible for building the lives we will wake up to tomorrow. And I am learning that a good life is built from an awful lot of little, not-so-profound, integrous choices which, when tallied, add up to who we’ve always wanted to be.