I got a massage last week. The reason I’m writing about it here is because writers and creatives have a long and storied tradition of self-destruction. We burn out like comets, way too often.
But I’m not just a writer and creative. I’m also a wife, mom, sister and friend. There are people who need me to not fall apart, wear out or kill myself (figuratively or literally) chasing the muse. So I make taking care of myself a priority the same way I make writing a priority. It’s not really anyone else’s responsibility.
I switched to a standing desk about a month ago, which was a smart thing to do because it saved my bacon when I was standing all day for a couple of days at the Steampunk World’s Fair. But it’s also physically tiring, and the two things (standing desk and working the event) as well as the day to day physical strains of lugging my laptop bag and other stuff were taking a toll. Not to mention I had a terrible cold for about a week. I finally ended up with my back going out on me last Monday. So I scheduled a massage.
It’s tempting to keep slapping Band-Aids onto injuries and lope back into the fray. My back had sort-of, kind-of recovered after heat and a day of rotating pain and anti-inflammatory meds. But the backache was a warning. Pay attention, and take care, Katina.
I’ve been getting a lot of warnings to pay attention and take care, concerning several different aspects of my life lately. Between wrangling two busy careers, a marriage and kids, it’s easy to get absorbed in doing and miss what’s going on beyond the doing. I intend to spend some time looking a little more closely at what’s happening under the swirling surface of my life.
If you’d like a writing prompt, write about a character who is sidelined by an injury or illness just before reaching his or her goal.