What is the difference between self care and pathological soothing?

originally published March 22, 2020 

What is the difference between self care and pathological soothing?

I ask myself this as I use more and more screen time during this time of separation from others. Even when I don’t feel anxious, I acknowledge that there is a deep fight/flight response that is ongoing during this crisis. Will my parents’ and friends’ retirements be wiped out? Will someone I love get sick and die? Will countless friends wither into desperate poverty, now that being a minimum wage worker isn’t even an option? So scroll
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Look at Trump he’s so dumb
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Flatten the curve, flatten the curve
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Cute puppy picture thank god
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Quarantine Karaoke holy crap this is entertaining and wholesome and worthwhile and it’s bringing people together wow people are okay
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And nothing is better, nothing is fixed, and my nervous system is still just as close to worry, to fear, as it was before.
So, today, I woke up and sat in the sun on the back porch. It’s getting morning sun now that the EXPLODING STAR has marched north again, and there are two starlings that are thinking of making a nest under the eaves and they talk and talk and talk and have you ever listened to starlings talk?
They are absolutely mind blowing. Hi-lar-ious. Squeaks, swirls, diving squawks, chortles, and questions questions questions they seem to be asking. I wrote in my journal and drank my dandelion chicory tea, and the faint snow from the night melted and dripped off the roof, beating its rhythm rat-tat-tatta-tat-tat-tatta until the slow sun had spoken long enough and the beat went tat tat tat until it simply dripped.
I put on shorts and a sweatshirt and went for a run. The dirt road was surprisingly dry, not the sploshing mess I was expecting. Up and down the hills, realizing to my dismay that I’ve been driving by trees full of red-wing blackbirds and haven’t even known it. They are SO LOUD, all forty of them hidden in a juniper or pinon pine, going crazy plotting some sort of plan for the cattail along the roadside.
The red tail was circling the patch of scrub forest near the left turn that heads towards town. There is a nest in the cottonwood at its edge, and I’ve been seeing - him? her? - waiting in the bare tree, seeming to broadcast, “Hey, I’ve got a fine nest here if anyone wants to help me put some eggs in it…”
I desperately want to see red tail babies.
The running was hard. I hopefully mislead you into thinking that I run. I don’t. I have run before, but it’s always been a sporadic and short-lived habit.
The air was fresh and the clouds darkened on the horizon, as I stood in the sun, hands on my hips, cold, airy pain creeping up my throat. The mountains are covered in snow, there are horses in the fields. Baby cows happened. Holy god almighty there are baby cows and if you don’t want to scoop them up and snuggle them I don’t know you.
The herons are roosting in their rookeries. Twenty and more giant birds, using tens of nests. They look like big blue footballs hovering above the nests - sometimes you see the single long leg that’s keeping them up there. Dinosaurs. We live with dinosaurs.
I ran and walked home, waving to the few trucks that passed me. Everyone waved back.
Made myself a protein rich meal, patting myself on the back the whole way. Go ahead, you runner, you, have some more.
I showered. Hot. Afterwards I rubbed salve into my face and arms. I’m all supple and feel lovely.
And suddenly, I realized that I had not thought of reaching for my phone for three hours.
I remembered it, then. I should check. What if something has happened?
But what was actually nourishing to me, today?
What actually kept me safe?
I’m not telling you not to use the phone. But keep checking - is it nourishing you? And if you don’t know what DOES nourish you, now is definitely the time to find out.
Sending you love.

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