I’m sitting outside this afternoon. Thick sweatshirt, bundled in my oversized, velvety blanket. I was listening to the beautiful sound of the melting snow running off the roofs. But there was also the sound of the neighbor spitting repeatedly, so my earbuds are in and The Lumineers are playing. Their music comforts my soul. So does the sun as it shines, hiding every so often behind the clouds, but never for long. Their warm rays are a welcome respite from the cold of winter that still surrounds me. The gravel covered driveway is mostly clear, just patches of snow left. Piles and mountains of it are still in the yard, but it’s March. It’ll be a while before it clears and we find ourselves walking along the wooden path, planning the flowers and vegetables for the planters.

I don’t take nearly enough time to escape. To go to the front porch, a bedroom, or even to kick back in the recliner with my earbuds in and listen to music. To close my eyes and truly hear what the lyrics are saying, how the music makes my body move and sway. To let it all surround me and wrap me up in the sounds and meanings and words. To let go of everything weighing on me and be in the moment. When you’re a caregiver, things like that are easy to let slip away. Sometimes the effort to just get up and out of the chair when you’ve got a moment to rest is asking too much. Sometimes when you sit down, you don’t get up again for a long time.

The sun is behind a massive covering of clouds, the wind is starting to whip around and it’s cold. Breezy cold. Depending on how the wind blows the clouds, it might come back. Or it might not. But I had twenty minutes of spirit recharging bliss.

Self care. It’s necessary, needed, and so often, damn hard to do. We often feel like self care has to be something big – a trip out to a shop, a massage, a visit with friends. And it is that. Those are all definitely moments of self care. But so is a few minutes lost in music. A quick pop out onto the porch to breathe deep while letting the sun warm your skin or the breeze blow away the frustrations of the day.

Listen to your gut. That wee voice or feeling of your intuition. Today I listened to mine, something I’m working on doing more often. Because I did, I got that beautiful moment in the sun.

Wishing you moments of peace…

J.H.