As I am writing this, a chunk of our Dirt Therapy crew is out at Smith Rock in Eastern Oregon and I am not. I am sitting on my couch. I think it might have even been my suggestion to put Smith Rock on the options list for this weekend. However, I’ve been thinking a lot about self-care recently and today was one of those days self-care looked different for me.

When I began my clinical mental health counseling program, there was quite a bit of conversation about self-care. I was working an insanely intense job that consumed my waking thoughts. I was in my first year of graduate school. I was commuting 3 hours a day (I kid you not). I was the head coach of a high school dance team (and if you know anything about dance, you know that is insane in its own right.)

Then came July.

I love July Kaela. I’m working really hard to keep her around.

Because s&*# hit the fan this summer. That’s when I learned about self-care. GENUINE self care.

The thing is, self-care is a loaded phrase in America right now. On Instagram. In books. In healthcare and industry. In school. Sometimes it feels as if self-care is another fad that goes along with slimming herbal teas and bullet journaling. If those things work for you, I am so happy. I want every person to feel happy and cared for and fulfilled. If any of those things, or shopping or knitting or running or taking photos or bubble baths are good self-care for you, ROCK ON.

Pre-July I wanted everyone else’s self-care. I wanted to be tan and posing on Instagram. I wanted to weigh 40 pounds less and using a paper planner into which I doodle adorable things around my important dates. Last summer I planted a garden and spent hours weeding it. I have two glass water bottles, because I live in Oregon and that is what we do here. I wanted to be a cute hiker that wears adorable leggings and looks perfect at the end of a 10 mile hike.

But I think the whole goal of self-care was totally missed on me. I was still strung as tight as a piano string. I talked a good game but the truth was that I was never content. Literally never. I practically vibrated with anxious energy. Kept everyone who I was close to at arms length in order to ensure that my perfectly balanced appearance of togetherness was, well, together.

I can’t say a lot about why everything hit the fan this summer. But I can share my reaction to it. I self-cared the crap out of those situations.

Here’s how.

I slept on couches quite a bit—uncomfortable couches. I stayed up until 4am many, many times. I started watching “The Office” for the very first time. I have eaten a crap ton of Taco Bell. (Guilty by association only!) I played disc golf, a sport at which I am TERRIBLE. I have been pulled over and drug on the ground for a little while by a big white retriever named Moose. This made me laugh so hard. I read books- for fun. I played at the park in the dark and giggled my brains out. I learned how to build a house on Minecraft and also learned I am really terrible at video games but they are fun. I stopped taking everything so seriously.

There has been rum, and card games, shopping trips and lots of late night talks. There has been rosé and Queer Eye marathons and buckets of coffee. I have lost count of the number of Dutch Brothers drinks I have purchased this summer. (It’s an Oregon thing, people, an Oregon thing.) I have learned about memes. I cleaned out a garage for weeks in 90 degree heat. I slept past 9am so many times. I watched the Perseid meteor shower—it left me absolutely breathless. The beach has become a happy place for me, which is definitely unusual. I hiked Iron Mountain, Opal Creek and Captain Cook’s Trail. I have taken a lot of walks. Lots of pool days, lake days, beach days and forest days were had. I cannot remember being this happy since I was about 19.

The truth is none of those things except books, hiking and late night talks would have made my self-care list prior to summer.

The key that I might have found to self-care is this: go with your gut. My fear of being judged has kept me from doing things that make me genuinely happy and kept me doing things that I thought would be good self-care but did not really rejuvenate me.

My long winded point is this. Dirt Therapy is about rejuvenating the soul. For me, it was partially about the things I did. But it was mostly about the people I did those things with.

Opening up my heart and being willing to just live in the moment and breathe has been the hardest thing for me to learn. I’m an introvert and have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and have had a number of really challenging things to face recently, so letting people get close to me is about -10 on my list. There was no other way to do it, though, and it was what made the difference.

I love July Kaela. She is okay with sending at 6am text and saying “I don’t feel good today and I can’t come on our trip.” She gets down on the floor with small children. She found the joy in the wind in the trees and shooting stars. She is finding the magic of the forest can also be found in late-night stories or in a deep affinity for Pam from “The Office.”

Self-care is about being brave. It isn’t about being perfect. Self-care is finding the things that bring you great joy and feeding those things.

I don’t have it all figured out. I barely have anything figured out. That is the point. You don’t have to be a 22 year old mountaineer sponsored by a sports agency to participate in Dirt Therapy. You don’t have to do or be anything other than yourself. Try new things. Stay up too late every once in a while. Learn to say no. Learn to say YES. If something scares you, give it a chance—it might turn into a really great, cleansing belly laugh. Risk letting people close to you, even when it is messy and complicated and painful. Go outside, look at the sky and just breathe.

As Morgan says, “Its not vanity, it is self-care. There’s a difference.”

Breathe,

Kaela Anne