Dear Friends,
We’ve revamped our newsletter! This week I posted on Instagram to share the news that we were moving to Substack (more on why below), and I made the joke that people should subscribe “for biweekly missives on whatever anxiety I’m processing this week.”
As much as I’d love to be high-minded about “wellness” and “living the creative life,” the truth is, we’re all just trying to get through the day, especially right now. For me, 2022 has begun with the most mundane, yet sanity-rocking challenges: snow and (non-COVID) illness. Just after the new year, the DC area got almost a foot of snow (10.5 inches on my back patio, at least), which, while beautiful, disrupted the routine for my family. Walking outdoors is my primary form of exercise, and it’s also crucial for my toddler to, as my mother puts it, “get her ya-ya’s out.”
Just as the snow began to melt, we were stricken with a Stomach Bug of Mysterious Origins, knocking each of us down in turn, and resulting in a whole lot of sleepless nights. I lost sleep for the usual child-with-a-stomach-flu reasons, but also just…anxiety. Though it’s been a week since my child was ill, last night I was convinced she was going to wake up sick again. So I tossed and turned and checked the baby monitor every time she made a tiny chirp, finally got to sleep around 1AM, and then woke up at 5AM for work.
Why am I like this?? As Adele reminded me this morning, “our brains aren't meant to sustain this kind of stress. It's understandable that you're awake with it.”
I get in this unhelpful rut of telling myself I have to keep it together because I am a person who writes about mental health for a living. But we all have bad weeks. If you have a child under 5, you’ve probably been having a string of them lately. With no little-kid vaccine in sight and Omicron tearing through all the daycare centers, everyone I know with small children is either A) sick, B) quarantining because their child was exposed, or C) waiting to be A or B.
It helps me, during times like this, to give myself permission to sit tight. Life doesn’t feel full like it did a month ago, and there’s nothing I need to do to change that. I need to meet my bare minimum responsibilities, Lysol the bathrooms, and get back to basics when it comes to feeling grounded. Lean on my support system. Lace up the snow boots and move my body. Carve out time for things that make me feel better (reading books, drinking water) and not worse (doomscrolling, caffeine).
Pushing against the systemic failures of the moment feels outside my capacity. Being productive feels outside my capacity. Making decisions, making plans, saying yes to things–not right now, not this month. Instead, I am reminding myself that there are seasons that feel full and seasons that feel fallow. Seasons that feel festive and seasons where you feel like you’re in a snow-prison and will never again get to eat anything but chicken soup.
This week, a good friend of mine taught me a motto that she likes: “Today, it’s like this.” This phrase might remind us that the set of circumstances we have to work with today is going to dictate what we can manage. Today, it’s like this: I am accepting the constraints of variants and cold weather. I am working with what I have. And also, today, it’s like this: I’m taking comfort that just because today has dealt me a certain hand doesn’t mean things will look the same tomorrow.
Take good care,
Dot
News & Updates
Hello from our new newsletter platform, Substack! If you were previously subscribed to the Alexandria Art Therapy or Creative Health Collective newsletters, you’re probably noticing that things look a little different around here. If you’re a new subscriber, welcome!
Why did we make the move to Substack? For one, better organization. You can now access our newsletter archives here, so you can easily revisit articles or find links we’ve shared in the past. Substack also makes it easy to share a newsletter with a friend, if it resonates with you. This platform can also help us expand what we can offer, moving forward. Your biweekly newsletter from us will always be free, but in the future you might see subscription options for additional content, like bonus art prompts or downloads.
Got questions or feedback? Just reply to this email.
Blog Posts
Your child is having a tantrum. You’re feeling angry and frustrated, but you’re trying to parent in a calm way. Why does this sometimes feel like you’re hiding how you feel, or stuffing down your emotions? Laura Miles and Adele Stuckey weigh in on emotional expression and how to take care of yourself when you’re in the parenting trenches.
Links We Like
How to get the most out of therapy. (WaPo)
Resolutions are not the vibe for 2022. (The Atlantic)
A good exploration of a tricky topic: setting boundaries or breaking up with a friend.
Laura Miles recommends: Why therapists ARE talking about Bruno -- and all the other 'Encanto' characters.
Omicron Means Parents Are Doing It All Again, Except This Time Dead Inside: “There’s no good or right way to proceed other than the one that keeps you sane.” If you’re the parent of a child under 5, for more solidarity, also see this and this.
Making new friends in midlife. (The Atlantic)
Lol, what’s your attachment style? (New Yorker)
Do you have a 5-year plan for…the people you want to be with?
Florals + collage + picking up a new hobby at the age of 72 = my kind of story.
The afternoon my family spent playing with Play-Doh over the holidays was a true bright spot. This article underscores why. (NYT)
How to draw a feeling. (NYT)
Breaking, reflecting, rearranging. (Love this and all of Kristen Meyer’s work):