Do I speak of the unspeakable? This past week marks a tragic low in inhumane acts. I cannot get my head around it. As a Jewish psychotherapist I am in a similar position as I was when we faced the pandemic. I am going through something that I am also hearing from my clients. The sadness, along with so many other emotions, have been omnipresent this past week.
Since there are so many experts writing and speaking about the issues surrounding the terrorist attacks, I will not even try to address it head on. What I can speak to is how now more than ever we can attend to our mental health. We can care for ourselves with the utmost respect. We can be gentle and kind. Patience is required as we may seek out numbing agents or distractions while feeling emotionally overwhelmed.
Taking life slowly for the moment may allow for processing the pain while creating openings for the small joys of any given day. Walks have felt particularly therapeutic to me. I have gone to take in artwork, and I am listening to more soulful music. Rest has been mildly restorative at the end of my days and at the conclusion of my work week. I hope you will find the people and things that comfort you. As citizens of the world we are all impacted one way or another by this and other atrocities.
I pray for accord and wish for every innocent person to thrive on a peaceful planet.
Self-Care Tips:
Move slowly through the world. The movement will help with stress release, and being embodied helps locate and address your current experience. Gentle stretching, walking in nature, dancing to music that moves you are all suggestions for your body and soul.
Reach out to those you care about. Ask how people are doing. If you’re overloaded, no need to ask, you can simply let them know you’re thinking of them.
Pray and meditate. If you are a non-believer prayer can simply be taking in the world around you. Become acquainted with your inner and outer selves as we heal individually, and ultimately ,we heal for all humanity.
There is a distinct feeling of “hygge’” a Danish word for contentment that comes from comfort and an easy friendliness, that perfectly describes the vibe we encountered in Copenhagen. Last week we had taken advantage of an Icelandair special to visit Copenhagen. I have always wanted to go to Nordic countries, but they seemed so remote. This deal with a stopover in Iceland was exactly what I needed to bridge the gap from a dream to a reality.
Throughout the years I’ve read food and travel blogs about Denmark and Copenhagen. And Copenhagen did not disappoint. The food was excellent. It’s so much fun to visit the outdoor markets, the covered markets, the cafes, the bakeries, and the restaurants. And, like New York, Copenhagen is a great walking city. Every chance I had I walked for miles, getting lost, finding myself in unknown neighborhoods or parks where there was always something new I encountered.
Our very first day in Copenhagen, jetlagged and hungry, we set off for a foodhall. The closest good one, we were told, was only one stop away on the “S” train. We dutifully walked the 15 minutes to the train station, bought our four-day pass for public transportation. The machine preferred European credit cards, so another ten minutes were spent trying to obtain our cards, but we prevailed. Next, we set off to find the S train, only to see that there were multiple tracks. We were flummoxed.
Luckily, a passerby helped us out and though we ended up on the Subway, we eventually found our way to the market. She was the first of many who embodied the hygge vibe. She was friendly, considered our request, and offered the best way she knew to get there. Even though we stopped others who had not known the directions we needed, all were kind, pausing from their morning commute to listen fully to our request. And, though it was our first hour in the city, there were many interactions that reflected the hygge mentality.
Right before we left for vacation, I had read a post that was critical of those who share their vacations on social media. She, the poster, saw it as bragging. It’s possible my posts can be perceived that way. Though not my intention, I do understand that traveling is a luxury, and it’s not always accessible to all. And, yet I love traveling and it’s an aspect of my life that always feels enriching. However, I did wonder if it was appropriate to share my travels.
After considering her post, I decided to share my experience. Travel means a lot to me. It gives me joy. Not only do I get a great deal out of traveling, the least of which was learning more about hygge on this trip, but I do bring back what I learn and do my best to apply it to my everyday life. I’m happy to be home. There is a hygge in sleeping in my comfortable bed, though I do miss the feather beds on our mattresses in Copenhagen. I am grateful to apply a new type of ease to my daily activities. There’s a good reason Denmark is the second happiest country in the world. I hope to visit Finland at some point, as that was rated number one. I look forward to seeing what I can learn on that trip.
Self-Care Tips:
If you listen to or read someone who has a very strong opinion, see if it applies to you. What they say is reflective of their point of view. So often we shut down our expressive selves because someone else says it’s not okay. Do your best to be okay with your choices and live your life fully as you, while not purposely hurting yourself or other. And understand not everyone will be okay with your choices, only you have to be okay with them.
Apply “Hygge” to your life. Find ways that bring ease and comfort. It’s simple but not always easy to take the path of least resistance.
Create a savings account for a specific goal or dream. For instance, I have a separate travel account. Even if your budget is small, set aside a dollar a week, less if that’s what’s needed. It can make the goal seem more real. There are many no fee apps and banks that allow for this type of account. Or you can use a specific change jar for a goal. This is great at any age.
When I was growing up summer was always book ended by the academic year’s completion in June and a new school year following Labor Day. In between were hot days at camp, or at home in the backyard under the sprinkler, with regular trips to Hidden Lake or the Haddontown Swim Club for substantial wet reprieve from the beating sun.
Here we are at this 2023 summer’s finale on this Labor Day weekend. The air is cooler as if a declaration that summer is at its end. In my teen and preteen years I would have been working at my father’s shoe store ringing up saddle shoes for the cheerleaders, parochial oxfords for local children attending Catholic schools, and Buster Browns for the public elementary school crowd.
There was anticipation in the air. We went to Korvettes or Grants to load up on school supplies, including Lego-sized sharpeners for our number 2 pencils. Figuring out what to wear on the first day was a pressing matter after first grade. Oh, how I loved my plaid wool skirt, with red fringe and a large gold-plated safety pin as an adornment. It was worn with a Danskin ribbed turtleneck, and red tights that never stayed up, causing me to waddle home at the end of that first day. I didn’t care. I loved that 60s fashion trend.
Now in my 60s, I appreciate those memories, and miss the clear delineation of seasons as signified by the school year. Time now is not marked by classes and tests. The year is of my making. Though I appreciate the freedom that allows, I do wax nostalgic for the endless summers and the structure of school in session.
AsI let go of this summer and welcome Autumn in all its glory, I hope you, too, can enjoy sweet memories while relishing the transformative Fall season.
Self-Care Tips:
Give yourself a break. If you have a “should” for this weekend or week, pause to see if it must get done, or whether you can put the “should” on pause and do something restful and/or fun instead.
Learn a new word, and when possible, use it. I can recommend “WordDaily.com. However, there are a good number of vocabulary apps and sites. This week featured the word “Disembogue,” meaning a river or stream flowing into the sea or a larger river.
Delete unwanted or unused app or apps from your phone. Or you can unsubscribe from mailing-lists you find annoying. Letting go of the junk emails, and ignored apps can feel like a reset.
Growing up my mother and her mother were sticklers for good manners. I made a point of saying please and thank you. I was afraid they would view me as rude, and I didn’t want that moniker. My grandmother would point out other children who might have been louder than us, or publicly whiny, and she’d use those children as cautionary tails of behavior we were to stringently avoid.
I appreciate good manners. Things can be pleasurably orderly when people stick to the rules, when the rules make sense for all. And I am always grateful for good manners. Yesterday, when I once again rode Park Avenue for Summer Streets, I made a point of thanking the police and the Department of Transportation volunteers and temp employees for being there. I was so grateful and happy to share that gratitude. All but one smiled back, and they were nice exchanges along the beautiful ride.
I was grateful I started out early so that the roads weren’t crowded. I was grateful for the cool morning air, a rarity in August. I had filled my tires so my ride was smooth. And to those that I thanked I may have seemed nice. But lurking underneath the gratitude and manners was a highly judgmental, cranky older woman. For the day I had become an architype. I was mad that some cyclists were in the right lanes, while some runners were in the left lanes. There was clear signage. Had I not been a shaky rider, I could imagine myself raising a fist each and every time I noted an interloper. I also wasn’t pleased when motor bikes vroomed down the supposedly gas-free streets.
In hindsight, I think these things scared me. I’m a tentative cyclist. I like empty roads without ruts. Smooth riding feels safer to me. If I give myself grace, I can now see that my righteous anger was a defense of my fears. And perhaps my fright isn’t specific to my bike ride. Maybe it’s global warming anxiety. Or a world in which people act out their fury in arbitrary ways. Or fear of an unknown future. Whatever the case I will do my best to ease my fears while living fully. I’ll continue to have good manners, a multigenerational practice. And I’ll check myself with care when my anger, judgment, and cantankerous nature peak out.
Self-Care Tips:
When angry, check to see if the strong emotion is protecting a more vulnerable part of you. If so, see if you can soothe yourself making room and a safe space for your frailer nature.
Challenge yourself in small ways by doing things that feels doable even if you’re a little bit afraid. It can be as small as a public bicycle ride in a busy city, stating a preference when you’re usually agreeable, or stepping out in a way right for you
Try reading or watching a genre that is new or different for you. I came to appreciate graphic novels, even if it’s not my go to. See if you might come to understand what others see in another genre.
What am I doing this weekend? Nothing special and everything essential. In an Instagram world of glamourous posts, my weekend is the antithesis of awesome. I started early to ensure I could easily access the washing machines needed for the weekly laundry. Luckily for me, it was a ghost town before 7 am, and I peacefully and quietly secured my machines and loaded them from the full hampers.
After I put the laundry in the dryer, bringing the hang-dry bag up to the apartment to, you guessed it, hang dry, I took Lucy out for a walk before the sun was beating too strongly on the sidewalks. It’s pleasant enough, but the humidity still clung in-between my skin and my summer cottons.
Then I ran some errands. I was at the post office, which was empty due to it being the first summer since the pandemic in which everyone is running to escape the city on weekends. Thank you, travelers, it’s so nice to enjoy a quiet corner of the city for a change. Next was a stop at the local farmers’ market. It seemed as if everyone who stayed in the city was buying up produce and baked goods. The lines were long. Some shoppers have routines in which they step in and out of line yet don’t communicate so those of us partially-patient while waiting are to assume they had a place somewhere and are now happy to go in front of us to procure their staples.
I got enough sleep last night and Lucy was set with treats, so I felt less agitated by those farmers’ market patrons. Sometimes, though, I can get annoyed. It was nice to have skipped over my reactivity this morning. Carrying my load, Lucy and I took the short walk back home. From there it was time for food prep. There’s something straightforward about cutting fruit and chopping vegetables.
Boring days like today are necessary to get through our lives. However, it’s only boring as a story. While ticking off these daily chores, it’s nice to accomplish small tasks. It’s satisfying to finish one small project and then the next. I was never bored. In fact, I appreciated the quiet time getting everything done. The mundane is not necessarily dull.
Self-care tips:
The next time someone asks, “What’s new?” See if you can easily and proudly share what you’ve been up to without having to exaggerate or only speak of the highlights.
Find the extraordinary in the ordinary. Often little things make a big difference.
Find something that combines humor and art. It could be poetry, fine art, a film, literature, or another type of artistry. It’s so much fun to laugh and be inspired simultaneously. It could be a Charlie Chaplin film, a Dorothy Parker poem, a Victor Borge video, any Judy Holliday movie, or choose something that suites your particular sense of humor.
I set out to go to The Brooklyn Museum to see the Africa Fashion exhibit. I had intended to see it twice before but got waylaid, so my determination to get there yesterday was fierce. My plan was to slowly jog in Prospect Park getting out at the arch and walking the few blocks to the museum. Once I made it to Prospect Park at an unfamiliar entrance, I opened up Maps on my iPhone and set off.
I had slung a string backpack over my shoulder with my knee braces for the run as well as an umbrella for the unpredictable weather. After securing my knees in place with the braces, I left the bench and turned back to the Maps app. I was curious. Though not so familiar with Brooklyn, I would have thought I should go right on the drive rather than the left the app instructed me to take. With a momentary pull of doubt, I started off on my slow jog, sun unexpectedly shining, bearing left on the path towards the drive.
In just over a mile I was instructed to leave the park. I was surprised I had been so close when the app indicated that I was miles away. When I exited, I was nowhere near anything familiar, but I ended my run and continued on my journey walking to the museum. Ninety minutes later, past a huge cemetery, on the edge of Prospect Heights, then into Fort Greene, ending in Gowanus, right by the newly constructed business area by the Gowanus Canal. This was nowhere near the Brooklyn Museum. Perhaps there was a Brooklyn Museum section of the Design Within Reach store that was where the app stated was my destination. Ah, the limits of technology.
I enjoyed seeing the new construction and the warehouse spaces that were a contemporary take on a Brooklyn aesthetic. There were places to shop, and places to eat. Young business people came and went, coffee in hand, trying to finish out their work week. By the time I sat in an industrial style courtyard there, I wasn’t sure if I should just head home, or if I should circle back and view the exhibit.
Hot, sweaty, and tired, I trudged to the closest subway station, still uncertain whether I was returning to Manhattan or finally seeing the month-old fashion show on display. In the end I transferred to the IRT 2 train and got off in front of the museum. I was disheveled yet determined. I showed my ticket and made it in.
It was less crowded than expected. Good for me, as I could take my time and enjoy the beauty of the craftsmanship and the artistry. I was not disappointed. It spoke of history, joy, and cultural pride with all 54 African countries represented in one or more ways. And, though my tour through Brooklyn was two hours more than expected, it is true of this weekend, that all’s well that ends well.
Self-Care Tips:
The next time you get lost, rather than spend your time trying to get back on track (unless someone needs you to be somewhere on time), look to see what is around you and take in the unexpected surroundings.
If you’re in or around Brooklyn, take a look at the Africa Fashion exhibit. It is inspired.
Try something new. It could be listening to a new artist, trying a food or dish you normally don’t eat. It could be meeting someone new, reading something not familiar to you. Whatever it is, see what you learn about the subject, and/or about yourself.
I was tired, it was hot, and I was happy to be at MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art, on West 53rd Street. The galleries were crowded, but I took my time enjoying new exhibitions and old favorites. After the slow perusal of four floors, I was spent. But I still had almost an hour before our dinner reservation down the block.
Lucky for me there’s an AI instillation that is a moving abstract representation, a curiously, animated piece, of the museum’s art collection. There are seats and cushions to view the instillation. Fortunately I snagged a seat when a gentleman, probably my age, got up next to me. I sat there mesmerized by this unusual data-infused screen.
It was hypnotic. The colors change constantly creating an unreal, but oddly familiar, explosion of hues. It’s not quite like spattered paint, but more like a constantly morphing puff of colors that mimic what I imagine virtual clouds might look like. It certainly held my gaze for just under an hour. And, rather than exhaust me further, I found the piece to be uplifting.
I was surprised that I enjoyed an AI instillation. It may not be as inspirational as the Georgia O’Keefe exhibition on the third floor. Nor was it as moving as the Van Goghs, or as stirring as the vast photography collection, but it held my gaze longer than even Monet’s Waterlily room. The 24-by-24-foot instillation is called Unsupervised. Rakif Anadol, the artist who conceived the piece, has used AI in his cutting-edge artwork for many years.
I’ve been dismissive of AI. I’m dubious of the impact to the arts. But while I sat there mesmerized, I could see how AI can stand next to other modes of art. Perhaps it can expand our minds. Nonetheless, I will always want to go back to the fine and performing arts in which humans display their infinite creativity to uplift our souls.
Self-Care Tips:
Look up an AI version of something you appreciate and see how it makes you feel. You may be surprised how you respond.
Do an art project. It can be watercolors, a drawing, or dance to music, sing, play a piece of music. Find a fun, creative outlet that you enjoy.
Write a short thank you note to yourself for something you appreciate. You can thank yourself for remembering something, or for your thoughtfulness. We are told to practice gratitude, and here’s a chance to be grateful to and for yourself.
It was a muggy day in the city. I went to bed late and gave myself the luxury of resting in bed yesterday morning. There was a lot to do, but my body craved relaxation, and rather than rush to place my feet on the floor, I lingered under the sheets, enjoying the ease of a restful morning.
I’m usually a doer. At some point in my development I got the message that being lazy was not a good thing. I made a point of being busy. Rather than being busy when necessary and resting when needed, I seemed intent on proving I wasn’t lazy. However, I had ongoing jealousy for those who enjoyed life doing less. That seemed impossible to me. Thankfully, post-Covid, I have come to see the value in proper rest.
Though I still have a long way to go to unwind the belief that one must be busy, I am glad that yesterday morning I could enjoy a restful dawning of the day. It allowed me to find the energy early in the afternoon to go on a short jog. It’s been a year since I’ve been able to run due to a sprained ankle. Even though I knew that long distance running was part of my past, I’m aware that I really enjoy running as an ongoing activity. So, I put on my ankle brace along with two knee braces, and I set out to run for a mile on East End Avenue asphalt.
Asphalt is easier on the joints and fairly level, which makes for a safer run. It felt so nice to run. Albeit I’m slower with less energy than last year. But it was the act of running that felt freeing. I look forward to running again today. Luckily, I had a great night’s sleep, so I’m well rested for today’s slow jog. And, after that? Maybe a nap.
Self-Care Tips:
What activity or experience is pure joy, so much so that you lose track of time? How do you feel thinking about it? When you have a chance, try diving into the activity. If there isn’t an opportunity, think about it for a moment and take note of how you feel while basking in that memory.
Reflect on your week and make a note of anything that went better than expected? Are you able to have gratitude for the better-than-anticipated experience? If so, take a moment to be with that gratitude.
Check in with your body. Do you have an abundance of energy? If so, do something physical to optimize that energy burst. If not, take a moment (or more, if possible) to relax, letting your body know you’re listening.
It was a mere coincidence that we happen to be in Split, Croatia the same day the New York Times travel section featured 36 hours in Split. It’s about the same amount of time we’ll be in Split, which is a beautiful port city on the coast of the Adriatic Sea.
I would hear what a stunning country Croatia was. Anyone I knew who traveled there would expound in its beauty and charm. But having so many places we wanted to travel it never made it to the top of our list. Then I had read that Intrepid Travel, a small group tour company, had been named the number one tour guide by a few outlets like Afar, Travel Awards, and more. It was then I looked at their itineraries, and the Croatian trip of the Dalmatian Coast fit the bill for time, cost, and interest.
So here we are with a view of the Adriatic Sea, enjoying the ruins of the last Roman Emperor’s castle from the 4th century, Diocletian. Yeah, I had never heard of him either. That’s what’s so great about travel, we learn so much while enjoying another culture.
What did surprise us is how delicious the food is. We think of Italy when we think of pizza, and yet, in Split pizza is everywhere. Almost like New York City, except it’s a walled town with no high buildings. So not like New York at all. And the fresh seafood is exquisite.
It does feel as if we’ve been transported to another time. Before reaching the city center there is a centuries old farmer’s market where farmers come in the morning to sell their wares, from handmade cheeses to deep red cherries. They tend their farms in the afternoons, only to return the following morning. From there we enter the city gates. I can walk inside the gothic city walls for hours, getting lost through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways. When I find my way outside the city walls, the fresh sea air is invigorating.
And, when I tire of continuing my walk the length of the marina, I can sit watching the many tourists with a lovely cup of cappuccino. Split has proven to be a wonderful start to a memorable Balkan vacation.
Self-Care Tips:
Look up a Croatian recipe. It will be something new that will only enhance your culinary repertoire.
People watch. It used to be a wonderful past time before smart phones. But it’s a lost art worth revisiting.
Get a short history lesson by going to Tic Tok or YouTube. Pick a subject or location and learn a new fact or two from the comfort of your home.
I just heard about micro adjustments. I’d never heard the phrase or the concept before. It was introduced as a mindfulness practice to adjust our perspective from getting lost in our thoughts, or external circumstances, to coming back to the present moment. It connotes adjusting our consciousness from distraction to mindful awareness. This may not be a new concept, but it’s new to me.
I love the idea of micro adjustments. They are slight but meaningful. I plan on implementing micro adjustments when listening, or writing, or simply when walking and viewing the city. When I catch myself drifting away lost in a thought loop I can micro adjust to enjoy the moment again.
I tried it this rainy morning while baking banana bread. I was half-way through the recipe when I started looking through the cabinets wondering how many spices and various ingredients I was never going to use. Too many, that’s how many. So, I started to get the foot ladder to make room on the top shelves. Then I caught myself sidetracked, again. I stepped down from the ladder, turned around, and then continued mixing the dry ingredients into the wet batter.
It felt so good to go back to my original activity. I completed the mixing, the pouring into the pan, and the clean-up before returning to the cabinets. It’s a quotidian moment, home tasks, easily diverted, then going back to start over again. I’m easily distracted. Having a phrase that quantifies that instant when the shift takes place bringing me back to the present is terrific. Micro adjustments are my new favorite contextual idiom.
Self-Care Tips:
The next time you find yourself readjusting to the present moment, remember you just performed a micro adjustment. Acknowledge yourself.
Name something you know you do well. Smile, and take a moment to appreciate your gift.
Look in your cabinets, refrigerator or pantry and get rid of anything beyond expired, or anything you have that you privately know you’ll never use. Then enjoy the space created.
janetzinn 