A common misperception is that therapists live hallowed lives full of harmony, tranquility and effortless conflict resolution. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth: we have just as many challenges and sticking points as everyone else, and often we’ve been drawn to becoming therapists because of our own tangled pasts and painful breakdowns.
At the same time, however, I know of no other profession that requires a person explicitly to take care of themselves. As an accredited member of BACP, it is literally in my contract that I must take the best care of myself that I can, because I am essentially the only tool I need for work. A gardener wouldn’t work with a knackered old spade, right? And you wouldn’t expect a self respecting chef to produce delicious goodies out of a third rate oven, would you? So I have a duty of care to my clients to ensure not only that I don’t burn out, but that I look after myself well enough that I can strive to be there for them in the most complete way possible when I see them each week.
Over the years I have gradually got better at this and am a boring advocate of early bedtimes, scrummy meals and all the yoga. However, there is an area I particularly struggle with, and I know I’m not alone: I try to do too much, too fast. I am guilty of making dinner whilst buying emergency school uniform whilst booking a vet appointment AND making a shopping list. Annoyingly, I’m pretty good at multitasking, so I can’t stop myself by reasoning that the dinner is burned.
But I realised that one of the reasons I love my job so much is that I really do stop and focus on just that one person. I am totally with them for that hour, and it’s often satisfying and productive and soothing. There is nothing else to focus on but this person - what a luxury!
So I wondered how to bring a slower pace to life in general, and what benefits I might get from doing that. I’ve been consciously trying to slow my everyday life down recently and have some tips for you, if you’re looking to do the same. Here’s what works for me:
Slow down early in the day. Don’t decide to speed through all your tasks in the day and then relax at night. You’ll be so tired out that relaxing is not a choice. Instead, try slowing your roll early on in the day. Have breakfast slowly. Take extra time walking to work. For me, fitting yoga in as early as possible works. What this does is lend a leisurely quality to the hours that follow: even if you then launch into something busier, it’s like you’ve set the tone for your day and you’ll carry a calm feeling with you.
Find the things that calm you. Yoga calms me, even if it’s just a ten minute You Tube video’s worth. Fresh air calms me, as do certain scents and comfy clothes and writing longhand. Once you know what calms you, you can deliberately use it to balance things out when you have to do something very busy or stressful. I promise you I am a much calmer person when wearing trousers with softly elasticated waistbands. That’s one of the many reasons why I don’t blog about fashion.
Have a to-don’t list. I love lists. I make one at least once a day and I love crossing things off when I’ve done them. In my efforts to live more slowly, I have continued making lists BUT THEN I make myself bin or defer or delegate 25% of the list. It’s surprised me how much isn’t actually that urgent. Having a smaller to-do list makes me feel like I’ve the luxury of plenty of time. And having a to-don’t list has taught me that I don’t need to think about my list so rigidly.
Do one thing at a time. I’m so guilty of emptying a dishwasher at breakneck speed while waiting for the kettle to boil. Who will win, me or the kettle? It’s probably the only sport I’ve ever excelled at but, for now at least, I am giving up my Olympic gold dream. Yesterday, while I was waiting for the kettle to boil, two squirrels chased each other all over my garden and dug up two of my spring bulbs. It was completely charming and I would have missed it had I been ramming spoons into drawers.
Check in with yourself. I regularly throw out comments like “How’s it going?” and “What’s been happening?” to my family members. The poor things, they can’t do much without me asking about it. But how often do I stop and ask these questions of myself? I stopped typing just now and realised I was holding tension in my neck and shoulders, so I just sat and deliberately let them relax for a bit. I noticed I was getting a bit hungry and started planning my lunch. I realised how comfy I was and congratulated myself on purchasing such a good office chair three years ago. Just pausing like that and wondering how I was actually doing gave me all the feedback I needed to change things, to plan things and to be grateful for things.
What difference has this actually made to my life, then? Well, I’ve been (slowly) practising this for a little while now and I am reaping some benefits. You might know from previous blog posts that I am a migraine sufferer and, on days where I’ve been particularly successful at slowing my pace, I have less migraines. It’s early days, but I kind of suspected a connection there and it’s always nice to be proved right (and have less stabbing pain in one’s head).
Not only do I feel more calm using this approach, but I also feel more joyful and am more ready to see the funny side of things. I think I notice more, because I’m not in such a hurry. I’m less quick to be annoyed or angry. I’m more likely to give someone the benefit of the doubt, or shrug something off that’s really fine.
“lots of the things I rush to get done aren’t needed immediately, or as soon as I think they are. Things happily wait, much of the time.”
It turns out that a great many of my “deadlines” are self-imposed. Sure, some things have hard timeframes, which must be adhered to: as long as you are convinced of the importance of these, and they aren’t overly numerous, that’s fine. But lots of the things I rush to get done aren’t needed immediately, or as soon as I think they are. Things happily wait, much of the time. Some things can be fruitfully delegated, giving someone who’s ready a bit more responsibility and independence, and you a few less things to fret about. And some things just don’t need doing at all.
I’ve rarely felt anxious since adopting this slower take on life. It’s hard to feel anxious when you’re doing something slowly. It almost doesn’t matter what the ‘thing’ is: deliberately slowing anything down sends a message that there is no frantic rush, freeing us to work purposefully and to gain steadiness. I am often rushing to get to some mythical future point where everything is ‘done’. But that moment where something is ‘done’ is fleeting, and then we’re onto the next thing. It feels a great deal less pressured if I can place my attention just where I am now, doing what I am actually doing.
I do believe that when we are paying ourselves more attention, and therefore removing or at least working on some of our own stressors, we have more space to be with other people. I suspect I am a better partner, mother, friend AND therapist at a slower pace. There is always time to respond and you will rarely “miss the moment”. Consistently showing up, with an attitude of calm curiosity, goes a very long way.
I thought I would struggle with letting my “get stuff done” approach slip. I tend to feel that my output equals my worth sometimes. I know I’m not alone there. Others of us might keep busy-busy in order to avoid difficult thoughts arising. if that’s you, do seek the help of a good therapist if you feel you might need one to help you work out what’s so awful. Keeping it squashed down is always more work in the long run than taking an honest look at it with someone who can support you.
A more reflective, less rushed me knows that I really would rather do one thing with calm, than do ten things frenetically. Which means I’m OK letting my multitasking self take a backseat. She probably needs a nap, actually.
What about you? Do you try to slow yourself down sometimes? How is it for you, and what are your hacks for living the slow life? I love reading your comments!