You can't always get what you want...
But if you try sometime, you'll find you get what you need
All the small things
So there I was walking down the road yesterday morning in the glorious sunshine, on my way to pick up my multiple prescriptions (immuno-suppressants, anxiety meds, steroids, HRT...) when I got the usual text message from the bank to tell me I was now ‘using my arranged overdraft’. I was quite impressed I had got to the 6th of the month! It normally happens within the first 5.
Do people still get text messages from anyone other than the bank and the GP??
I’d come out of a medical appointment that had left me in tears as the consultant couldn’t offer me the absolutes I craved. Whilst the drugs appear to be working at the moment, there was no assurance I wouldn’t have any more flare-ups, or that there would ever be an end to a condition which intermittently causes me such pain. I’d had a row with my teenage daughter (who is referred to on my Substack as Taz - short for Tasmanian Devil) about being late for school. We literally live at the back of the school, and she was still at home displaying neither shoes nor intent to leave at 9am. My other daughter (who we shall refer to as Fiver from Watership Down) was experiencing gale force anxiety, my husband was on a 48 hour shift having received some difficult news of his own last week, and the laundry pile was throttling the remnants of my sanity with the fervour of rampant bindweed.
In the scheme of things - all manageable - but sometimes it’s the pile up of ‘all the small things’ that gets you down.
Chuck it in the fuck it bucket
As I waited to collect my meds, I opted not to continue staring at the paint-peeling walls of my local Boots - festooned as they were with garlands of corn pads and foot fungus powder like Bad Santa’s tinsel - but decided instead to venture out into The High Street. With no agenda (so much so I was not even equipped with a Bag for Life I might add), I just allowed myself to walk and browse. Not on a time constraint to run between Sainsbury’s and Robert Dyas grabbing chicken breasts and drain unblocker, I walked into the gift shops, the lovely shops, and thought about what I needed for myself in that moment.
When I say ‘need’ for myself, I don’t mean in the materialistic sense, I mean in the heart sense. I needed to be in a welcoming environment. I needed colour and warmth, smiles and comfort. A friendly nod and soft surroundings. A feeling of care. I found myself wandering into one gorgeous (if overpriced) gift shop selling all manner of delights - somewhere I normally only visit when I need an emergency jellycat baby present.
On this occasion I didn’t head straight for the jellycat shelves to fret over whether I should gift a super soft sausage dog or a dinosaur (whilst simultaneously marvelling over the ever expanding range of fluffy sushi rolls, cream cakes and winter vegetables); but lingered in the doorway to enjoy the smell of the candles. My favourite crackly ones fully stocked, enticing me with aromas of Christmas, fir trees, cinnamon, woodfire and warmth.
I decided I was going to treat myself to one.
I immediately felt naughty, excited, subversive and very very happy. As someone who, in corporate life, would not have thought twice about spending £50 (and more) on some frivolity I didn’t really need, author life was a very different way of being. My bank balance didn’t really allow for such things anymore, but as my best friend frequently says to me:
‘sometimes you’ve just got to chuck it in the fuck it bucket’.
YES!!!
I felt a tiny rebellion coming on.
In my book Breaking Waves, I write quite a lot about the ‘fuck-its’. It’s something I very much learned from my brother - someone with life-limiting health conditions who travelled the world, wrote a book, recorded an album and did a parachute jump. In the years before he died, he exuded the fuck-its, and when I get those moments I feel such glee, and also the knowledge that he would be right there cheering me on.
Now I’m not talking about doing a parachute jump on Dorking High Street on a Tuesday morning, just buying a candle, but it sparked something in me. The dopamine ignited, inspiring me to take a bit more time TO MYSELF, and to visit my absolute favourite shop in the town, Westcott and Williams. Favourite for two reasons - firstly because of all the gorgeous items stocked there, but mostly because the owner is just so blinking lovely. I left the candles behind, and went to say hello.
Oh you pretty things
When I entered, the owner, Annie, was there with her radiant smile that lights up her beautiful shop, despite me interrupting her sneaking in a mouthful of lunch behind the till. I realised that in the moment that was what I needed. That is what my heart craved. Connection, and a friendly face. We had a lovely chat, both reflecting on how fortunate we are to have jobs that don’t feel like ‘work’, both cognisant of the sacrifices that we’ve made to live in that way and acknowledging that whilst we may not be showered in conventional riches, we wouldn’t have it any other way.
I left her to her sausage roll, and immersed myself in the beauty of the space she has created, absorbing the wonder and creativity of it all. The ‘main stay’ of the business is actually Annie Sloan chalk paints and she runs wonderful chalk painting workshops, but oh there is so much more.
It’s a place that makes my heart sing.
I left with a spring in my step, and an accidental bag containing the most delightful cushion and a little plant, but only in support of Annie’s business you understand, not for me at all. [If you’re ever in Dorking - it’s a ‘must’ visit].
On the way back I popped into my spiritual home of Waterstones, and chatted to the lovely man who runs it (my former manager there), again feeling part of a community, feeling known. I bought a gorgeous card and two very pleasing notebooks - I am a writer after all. That was most definitely a work purchase. Yes, yes it was.
And then back towards Boots, popping in to pick up the crackle candle on the way - I mean it all began there - I couldn’t not?!
By the time I collected my meds (yawn), I felt refreshed, grateful and gently lifted. Not just because of my illicit haul, but because I felt less alone, more understood, and part of a community of like-minded others. More than that, part of a community that cares.
Nourishing the soul
It turns out that what I really needed yesterday was self-care.
It’s true that I don’t need any of the things that I bought ‘materially’, however they each represent something significant in how I care for myself. It also made me reflect on how almost everything I buy is for others (mostly the children obviously), but how it’s ok every now and then to afford that luxury to myself. To feel cherished. No guilt. No justification. Just because.
The cushion I just wanted to cuddle and hold, knowing it will be my nap buddy for the days when my body is weary (like today) and I have to lie low.
The notebooks will be my companions to be filled with thoughts and words, to capture dreams and to write my next stories.
The candle makes me feel like my home is a Norwegian cabin in the woods - I can shut my eyes and there isn’t so much as a laundered sock in my vision, just blankets, fir trees and warmth.
And as for plants - well I don’t think I need to explain that one.
Could I afford it? Not really. But it was worth its weight in gold (and I’m sure December will be a cheap month, right??!). Something shifted in me, and also in the whole frame of the day - Taz came home and put the laundry away, Fiver came in and cuddled the cushion.
I lit the candle and just breathed, and smiled.
Imagine your favourite gift shop - what would be the item that you would buy yourself?
What are your little acts of self-care?
I’d love to hear more.
Love & lemons,
Em xx
Candles, a cushion, 2 notebooks and a plant - lovely ! What a gorgeous day of slow lived life with no priorities and expectations💛 a gorgeous day of connection. For me that’s the most important (nourishing) thing, being around others I can completely be myself with. Often accompanied by food. Or at least a cuppa. In a shop I’d love the aforementioned with maybe a crystal instead of the cushion 😍 (though I’ve only ever bought 2 crystals, on my most recent splurge in a spiritual shop in Bridlington)
I love this Emma, I know exactly what you mean. Some days you want to say, you know what it is about me! I think I'd buy a book and some luxury face cream, that always make me feel good and I mainly go to the library for books these days. Your day of self-care made me smile, I always love a meander to the shops when you don't have to buy something and you can spend longer just browsing.