Flickering candles adorn my desk.
Palo Santo perfumes the cool morning air.
Hot cinnamon coffee awaits in an artisan-crafted blue mug – the special kind with a generous sized handle, so I can easily hold, let my fingers receive the heat, and simply savor.
Cozy pink socks warm my feet. A long, black cardigan wraps around a white cotton nightgown. A velvet dusty rose bandana pulls back my freshly cut short hair (yes, short!).
I write my journaling pages in pencil and feel such a delicious ease rippling through my body, rippling through my early morning musings, rippling through my softened embodied experience of this Now moment.
A moment I dressed up. A moment I curated with little gifts of warmth, comfort, beauty.
I’ve noticed lately how often I deprive myself of these little gifts of warmth.
The other night, the first night it was truly cold, my toes turned into icicles, but I didn’t make the effort to get up and put on socks. I suffered through the night and had the beginnings of a sore throat the following day.
If a child in my care told me that her bare feet were cold, I’d swiftly select a pair of fuzzy and warm socks for her to wear. I wouldn’t hesitate to take care of her. I’d make it a game – “which socks do you want to wear?” And would bless those little feet, thank those toes and the all-knowing soles that kiss the earth while snuggling those socks on.
These little depravations add up and ice me out of comfortably existing in my body, which ices me out of presently and vibrantly existing within the textures and currents of my everyday life.
If I’m cold, I’m just thinking about feeling cold, and if I’m over-thinking, I’m not full-belly breathing and consciously living.
It’s a small thing, perhaps, the effort to just put on some socks, to grab a cardigan from the closet, to warm up the lingering swigs of coffee on the stove … I’m becoming aware of this resistance that I have to get comfortable, the part of me that says, “Solider on!” And freeze.
And in that recognition returning back to prioritizing, with gentle and firm discipline, the vital importance of following through and ensuring these expressions of self-support, self-mothering, deep self-care.
Because all these little steps really do add to create a comfortable moment, a comfortable life, a life that I can delight in experiencing. Mixing textures and scents that enliven my senses, that bring me warmth, amplifies my life-force, reenergizes my vitality. It’s the power of pleasure.
“A little authentic luxury can go a long way,” writes Julia Cameron, the famous creatrix of the life-changing text, The Artist’s Way. She prompts readers to indulge in healthy extravagances, which for me is purchasing stylish, beautiful and very warm winter-tights and warm socks. Typically, I would deprive myself of these purchases, but would buy them as gifts for loved ones.
Recently, on an impromptu shopping excursion with a loved one, I treated myself to a chic pair of floral dark red socks. They peak over my black ankle boots, complementing my autumn dresses, giving an extra kick to my ensembles of graphic tees and skirts, and while they are stylish, they also keep my feet warm.
A simple and significant gesture – to buy a pair of socks that please my fashionista self that adores to express and also a practicality that is met by keeping myself warm, which means I feel more at ease in my body, which means I feel more present and embodied while I journey throughout my day.
“A healthy extravagance. An authentic creative luxury.”
These prompting lines from Julia Cameron are floating to me, to share, to offer to you, too.
What if we attended to our quiet desires, if we let ourselves want what we want?
And so often when we even begin to inch closer to those desires, there’s a freeze – a block. This may be a survival pattern, when as children we perhaps couldn’t express our authentic needs for fear of not being understood, or being ignored, and there is a protective design to this survival pattern that we can lovingly thank and then we get to choose as our adult selves a different way.
So what’s the smallest doable piece?
What’s a gentle step to help us thaw out a bit, to melt just a little, to experience the warmth of a choice that is aligned with nourishing and celebrating our wellbeing?
I choose to put on the socks. I choose to light the candles, to burn the Palo Santo, to write in a gorgeous journal.
Small choices that exude the energy of self-care cultivate a lovingness that nourishes our everyday life, a life we are so worthy of experiencing with ease, with comfort, with toasty warm feet.