Writing Self-Care for When the World is Afire
By Jan O'Hara | January 18, 2021 |
At graduation, by all objective measurements, I should have been a well-trained family doctor. Yet during my first three years of medical practice, I don’t think a day passed when I didn’t want to tear my hair out in perplexity.
People would walk in with vague symptoms that didn’t seem to fit any specific diagnostic pattern. In my newly minted state, I wouldn’t know if I was seeing an obscure condition I hadn’t been taught about, a minor biological glitch that would soon fix itself, or the earliest, nondescript stage of a dangerous illness.
As a hyper-conscientious nutcase—an extremely scientific term that encapsulates my personality—let me describe how this affected me: When I managed to reach my bed, I slept poorly. My holiday plans? Deferred and shortened. During family walks, I’d think about work and hustle us home to look up “just this one thing.”
That’s probably why my extremely patient husband used to repeat a particular story on the regular.
I have no idea if it’s true, or if it’s one of those urban legends that conformed with his loving and personal agenda. I might have responded with an eye roll and a “yeah-yeah.” But the ToolMaster was consistent in the telling and in hindsight, I think it’s a useful parable for difficult times.
When working to address a famine, he said, the people who stick—the ones who can last more than a few weeks or months—are the ones who bust their humps during the day and then spend the nighttime in retreat. They return to their compound. They take care of themselves—resting, eating, talking with others who are working through the same challenges. Thus replenished, the following day they return to their battle stations.
What does this have to do with writing?
Well, I’m composing this post on January 12th. By the time you read this, it’s impossible to predict what political events will have transpired in the recent past, or what the next 72 hours will bring. I have ideas, though, and they’re largely concerned and anxious ones.
I hope to be proven wrong. I hope you’re coming to Writer Unboxed for your routine boost of inspiration and writing-related skill acquisition. I hope you won’t be glued to the TV in dread, and that your biggest concern will be about what to defrost for dinner and which Zoom-interrupting kid to yell at first. But if things are scary and big—and even if they aren’t—there are writing lessons to unpack from the ToolMaster’s anecdote.
During challenging times, self-care is a key to longevity
Here’s an exercise to try: Turn off the TV, tune out the world and set your timer for 5 minutes. Open a document or take a sheet of paper and write down these categories of health: physical, mental, spiritual. Then brainstorm the things you can do today to enhance them.
Can you commit to doing at least one thing on your list?
Is writing on your list? For some of you, it’s an instinctual act of self-care, if not an absolute requirement for financial reasons. If not, if you’ve dismissed it as self-indulgent or trivial, or have no external deadline that pushes you to the page, I’d urge you to reconsider.
If you’re not writing, one thing to keep in mind is that…
You can cultivate resilience through tiny acts
One meal. One hour of reprieve. One decent sleep. Those can be enough to gain distance from the battle and restore the energy to fight.
If you’re not writing at all, I’d hazard that you’re asking too much of yourself. Unrealistic expectations backfire at any time, but never more so than during moments of societal upheaval. Can you be kind to yourself with your goal-setting and perhaps go smaller yet?
For instance, here’s a list of tiny writing-related actions you might consider taking:
- write one sentence in your work-in-progress (WIP)
- edit one sentence in your WIP
- email/DM a writing friend to let them know you are thinking of them
- tweak a blurb that’s been annoying you
- update sales links on your website
- update your Facebook/Amazon page’s bio
- update your author photo
- write one tweet or similar to maintain your social media platform
- spend 5 minutes tidying your working space
If none of these appeal, try this exercise, which The Hope Foundation of Alberta used for their patients. I’m going to tweak it slightly to incorporate the third point from our anecdote, which is that…
Hope thrives in supportive communities
Put on your boots/shoes/flip-flops and grab your camera or smart phone. Go for a walk and take a photo of anything which strikes you as a symbol of hope. It doesn’t have to be earth shattering.
For example, you might return with an image of a flower growing in a crack, a beautiful sunset, or a dog romping in the snow. Bonus points if it’s an image of something related to your WIP.
Got your image? Now share it with others. (Use the hashtag #WUHopeOGram)
Come join us on the thread I’ll start on the Writer Unboxed Facebook page. I’d love to see what you come up with.
Now over to you, Unboxeders. Are you writing during this unsettled time? If not, is there one tiny step you are willing to take, today, to rekindle your career?
[coffee]
A USA Today bestselling author, former family physician and academic, Jan O’Hara (she/her) left the world of medicine behind to follow her dreams of becoming a writer. She writes love stories that zoom from wackadoodle to heartfelt in six seconds flat: (Opposite of Frozen; Cold and Hottie; Desperate Times, Desperate Pleasures). Her latest Christmas novella, The Cowboy’s Comeback Christmas, is part of a 9-author-strong anthology (A Cowboy This Christmas: A Sweet Romance Anthology). She also contributed to Author in Progress, a Writer’s Digest Book edited by Therese Walsh.
Hey Jan – The HopeOGram thread is such a great idea. Thanks for setting it up on the group page.
Your excellent essay has made me realize something. Not that I hadn’t thought of it before (after all of the crazy we’ve witnessed), but I think I’m luckier than many as I’ve always self-soothed by focusing on my work. It’s the way I get back to sleep at 3:33 or 4:44am (I find myself wakeful at those two sequential timestamps all too often). It’s how I occupy myself during tedious travel. It’s what tends to drift to the fore during times of “labor by rote” (lawn-mowing, vacuuming, veggie chopping, etc). I “go there” in waiting rooms, during boring dinner parties (remember those?), etc.
I can see that this old habit made the leap to self-soothing during lengthy obsessing-over-current-events (i.e. the shitshow) by retreating to the WIP a more natural inclination. I also feel sort of lucky that I’ve been in the midst of a major rewrite of an entire trilogy for over a year now. I think it’s easier than facing the blank page of an as-yet unfinished story.
Thanks for providing the necessary perspective as well as the tools for self-care. Hope you and yours are well, and that your winter is being gentle (we’ve got enough to deal with, right?).
I’ve been comparatively lucky, too, V, and it largely has to do with the stage of life my household occupies. But on a personal note, like you, I’ve used my WIP as a retreat. At times that’s been a challenge, because it’s a comparatively angsty sucker, but it’s still a break from the world and within my control.
Winter has been very unwinter-like here, which is its own form of niggling concern. But it has been a gift in that it hasn’t contributed to cabin fever.
Stay safe. I hope the option of a vaccine comes your way soon.
When I’m feeling drained and stressed and unable to write, I make something instead. Making a physical object is satisfying, to actually see progress and hold a thing in your hand. It’s more immediate than trying to write and publish a book. If that fails, I watch Studio Ghibli films.
That sounds like a wise strategy, Marta. Something short-term that provides immediate feedback. Something beautiful, too, knowing you. (Your artwork maintains its prominent place in my office.)
Spirited Away was one of my kids’ favorite movies when they were small. I’ve neglected my education since, I have to admit. So many movies, so little time…
Jan, your husband’s story makes so much sense to me. I learned the hard way that binging news of the outside world makes me irritable and jumpy. Over the past four years, I’ve tried to stick to hard work during the day and deep rest at night. The world is still out there being its crazy self, but I’m no good to anyone if I’m fried. I saw that clearly on Jan 6. My news-binge resulted in a giant emotional hangover. I need a clear head to do my work and stay connected to my peeps. Love the photo idea. I think it’s vital that we look for the light. Wonderful post. Thank you!!
“I think it’s vital that we look for the light.”
A beautiful way to put it, Susan.
I have my internet blocker engaged from 6 a.m. until 6 p.m. Unfortunately that doesn’t limit TV, which I tend to watch as I prepare my coffee, etc. But the principle holds: limited, thoughtful news consumption to be done after you’ve handled the day’s business. (But not too close to bed.)
Maybe the day will soon arrive when we won’t feel a need to be quite so vigilant. Won’t that be something?
Such a lovely and inspiring post, Jan. Writing — or storytelling — is definitely my happy place, and I’ve found myself retreating to it during hard times this year, and finding myself resentful when outside events such as the news damage my ability to concentrate. Your internet blocker is a great idea and I admire your self-discipline.
Liz, I had to chuckle because the internet blocker is there precisely because I lack self-discipline. To wit, I spent my writing time yesterday sulking over an editing challenge that I’m failing, and to soothe myself I read.
It’s good when a writer finds the process of storytelling their happy place, IMHO. Gives you grit.
Your husband is a wise man, Jan. A big part of self-care has been to focus on the local–my home, my neighbors, my church–and when I do think about bigger things, it’s BIG, as in God and the eternal :) But my writing has suffered (due to an accident and surgery) and I’m getting back into it after a 3 mo. hiatus and I have so many ideas I cannot focus on any one thing. Maybe I just have to let it all out before my monkey mind calms down. Daily walks and rosary help.
Vijaya, I feel for you. I had back pain for 20 years. I lost so much time with family and friends. And the loneliness was tough.
Have you considered writing by dictation? My friend with many ailments dictates everything. Then she follows up for corrections. She’s a fun writer. It works for her.
I wish you perfect health and your wonderful ms’s piling up!
I’m thinking positive thought for you!
Peace
GK Foster
Vijaya, I’ve found it VERY hard to write through painful health challenges. As things settle down for you, and I hope that happens soon, I have no doubt you’ll marshall your thoughts into order. As for your priorities during this time, they make perfect sense to me. It’s a gift to be able to zoom attention both in and out to find the hope in a given situation.
All these years later, I fully agree about the ToolMaster’s capacity for truth. At the time, though, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. The poor guy.
Gillian and Jan, thank you. Dictation is such a good idea and in the early days after surgery, I tried, but I couldn’t think properly. I think best through my fingers. There were days when I’d scrawl a few notes with my left hand. But I’m on the mend and it feels good to be able to write by hand and type–I just need to stick with it and trust the process.
Thanks Jan. There is nutritive self-care in those small kinds of acts you mention. I haven’t been writing much, except for assigned pieces, but I recently again took up a gratitude journal that I write in every day and just those few minutes of writing about something good—often a tiny, evanescent thing—is brightening.
And this weekend, even though I am the prototype NonToolMaster (I’m the guy who when trying to work on a running engine a while back had the loose t-shirt I was wearing completely whipped off and dragged into the engine by the fan belt), I did a couple of fixit tasks around the house, and it was gratifying. It was even gratifying to keep my shirt on—probably for the neighbors too.
I’m going to do some website tweaks this week, and however small, appreciate them. Thanks!
Tom, a gratitude journal is part of my daily practice, too. I like to clear my head before I write, and that’s part of the calming process.
Re your handyman qualities: Thank goodness your fan belt’s appetite extended only to your shirt! I’m not mechanically minded myself. (Certainly don’t make a practice of going topless for the neighbors.) But that’s one reason I’ve been happy to leave household repairs to my husband. He’s truly gifted in that department.
Now, if you were to ask me about his facility with making pasta, I might have a different answer…
Tom, gratitude covers a multitude of sins, no? It’s my first emotion upon waking and the last before I fall asleep.
You just reminded me I need to work on website stuff. I’ve been organizing all my bookshelves because my husband complained of all the piles of books, forgetting how many books *he’s* added to those piles. But I’m hoping the external organization will help with the internal. Onward!
Vijaya, I need to remind myself too, since I too often slink away from tech tasks that I know how to do, but don’t enjoy.
Jan, as a writer who at one time was a secondary school teacher and then a maternity RN, I remember driving home form either occupation and castigating myself for not doing this or handling that with some uncertainty. Writing can rise up in the same way, but I have learned it is best to just get the words on the page and then come back later for the wringing the hands moment. Your insights into dealing with this stressful time are so helpful. Thanks, Beth
Both those occupations are heavy on the responsibility to others rather than words, Beth. Do you think that makes the difference? (It does for me for sure, which is why I ask.)
Fantastic news that you’ve been able to let go while writing, though. Isn’t it neat how we can compartmentalize so well in some arenas, yet struggle in others?
Yes, Jan, it does make the difference. I read your piece with great eagerness. I remember when you left your profession. From afar, I think many assume it’s glamorous and you make lots of money. WRONG. It requires so many skills on so many levels: you refer to understanding the science, along with personal skills like getting the patient to explain things; having physical dexterity and being able to be on your feet for long hours. COVID 19 has made heroes of many in the medical profession at all levels–but it has also shone a light on the grueling aspects of taking care of the ill and dying. Like a person said to me when they heard I was going back to school to be an RN: why would you want to hang around with sick people. Oh boy, you can’t explain that to such a person.
I knew about illness from the receiver’s end but I had no real idea about the lifestyle of a family doctor before I lived it. Even being told about what to expect wasn’t enough. (I think I have some idea about what nursing entails, but I bet I’m grossly underestimating certain stressors at that.)
If I were to ever go back to medicine, the area which interests me most is palliative care, believe it or not. That would probably provoke a shudder in your acquaintance, but it’s so rewarding.
Good thing there are many varieties of people walking the earth!
Jan, I retired from a nurse practitioner career in psychiatry to full time blog & novel writing. During the work years I escaped into co-authoring books and finally writing my first book. It’s in the final stages of editing and on course for publishing in 2021. Given the challenges today, I balance supporting my family & friends with up to date medical info (not political) & concentration on writing. It helps to have two doggies and a supportive SO in my life. He’s a musician, and I’ve taken up the acoustic guitar again (after 50 years). I’m in my 80s and thrive because I find the balance, no matter what. 📚 Christine
A full life, Christine. Wonderful. And good luck with your launch!
I have two children who graduated from nursing. One is still in practice, the other changed professions. From my observation, nursing is much, much better at stressing self-care than is medicine. Would you agree? Or do you think the people excellent at self-care are more inclined to enter nursing and say “heck no” to medicine?
Jan, it might be our training in nursing that helped. Care of patients & self care are emphasized. At least it was in the late 50s when I was in training. I was too old (42) to enter medicine when I started college. But, I would have been able to take care of myself very nicely with a nursing background. NP was my goal after that. Made it at age 60 and became board certified as a family NP. Psychiatry is where I ended up. Very gratifying working with MDs. 📚🎶 Christine
Having worked with a nurse in your exact role for personal reasons, I can attest to the value of your career. Especially when it was something you found meaningful.
Good advice, Jan. I’ve become strict about my excercise routines, especially the daily walk–preferably in the woods, but lately I’ve been gravitating to a nearby cemetary. It has a trees, unmarked snow, and a good view of the nearby mountains. Plus I am usually alone there except for the quiet dead. I find it soothing, and often think of the Brontes and the graveyard just outside the Haworth parsonage.
I like your suggestion of tidying our workspace. I’ve let things pile up during a recent sprint of work, and I know that sorting it will decrease my stress. Thank you!
Barbara, there’s a psychologist I admire who says that you can gain a near-instant mood boost by exercising or cleaning. You’re running two for two today.
The walk sounds lovely. We don’t have anything like your graveyard here, but there’s an urban forest walk I’m due to revisit. Thank you for the prompt.
“…hyper-conscientious nutcase“ – ah! Me too! *laughing*
I exercise, eat healthy foods, walk my dog in the Cove, watch my critters, take only half teaspoons of news once in a while, and have been DIY’ing my house to kingdom come and it’s looking niiiiiiice from my efforts — but write? Just isn’t happenin’
Really great post, Jan! Thank you.
You’ll get there someday when the time is right, Kat. You’re simply working through things at a different level. Carry on with your nutcase-y ways; I approve!