As I’ve mentioned several times already, the state of my mental health has a large impact on how much I actually enjoy life. In fact, being generally OK is so crucial that I’m not sure a lush life is possible without it. There can be moments of joy, fun times, and productivity on days that are still hard. I can make everything around me as cozy, rich, comforting, extravagant, and luscious as possible. But if I’m not doing well mentally, I don’t actually get the full lush experience.
I spent most of yesterday at the World Mental Health Day Conference on campus. Some helpful reminders and takeaways (besides the fun bag and coloring pages and relaxation crafts):
Fight or flight is the body’s natural, healthy response to a dangerous or stressful environment. So much of my progress has been aided by first asking, “Is this something wrong with me or something wrong with the relationship/situation/world?”
Forced positivity is invalidating.
Being aware of our own vicarious trauma while taking care of students is important.
Take a real lunch break. Like…leave the office and go somewhere. [but…where? I feel like this is advice for people with money to buy lunch every day and longer lunch breaks – and no, getting less sleep so I can get up earlier so I can have a longer lunch break doesn’t help my mental health.]
Take more breaks and move around more often.
Damn. I really am gonna have to make a phone call to set up my sessions. *heavy sigh* Can I count “having to make a phone call” as an issue for which I need counseling? Kidding. Sort of.
If we could have a staff nap room on campus, that would be great. I would literally never use it, but I’d be comforted just knowing it was there.
What do you do to take care of your mental health?
It seems that a lush life would involve travel to some extent. I’m pretty much a homebody, but I do like to get away occasionally. I’m not a packed itinerary, see-all-the-sights person (on account-a I believe vacation should be a change from my usual pace, not just the same busyness in a new location), but if I’m at a place for a week or more, a couple of main attractions are nice.
My favorite trip to date was the week I spent with a few friends in Cape Cod. We rented a cottage and cooked most of our meals. In the morning, we woke leisurely. Those of us who got up earlier had coffee and some sort of pastry, usually from dessert the night before, while we read or journaled or stared at the trees. Later in the morning, once all of us were up, we had brunch together and discussed what we would do that afternoon. We spent an afternoon at the beach where I read Like Water for Chocolate in one sitting. We had tea in Sandwich, and drove up to Provincetown one afternoon. In the evenings, we made or went out for supper and had many wines (observe a selection of the week’s corks above). Sometimes other friends joined us; sometimes it was just the three of us. It was perfect.
A proper vacation for me is something super laidback. If there is a schedule involved or activities for which one could be considered on time or late, I’m probably not interested. I want to eat delicious food, drink copious amounts of adult beverages, and have coffee at irresponsible times of the day. I am hardly ever spontaneous at any other time, but on vacation, it’s a requirement.
Of course, vacations also require money, so I don’t take them that often. When I do, it’s usually somewhere in the U.S., and I typically drive. Sometimes the vacation portion is only a part of the trip because the main reason I’m going is for a retreat or conference. I do have a running list of places outside the U.S. I’d most like to see:
Italy
Lisbon
Denmark
New Zealand
Argentina
Nepal
Perhaps someday.
But that doesn’t mean life can’t be lush with smaller trips. I like day trips to bookstores that aren’t necessarily local but are within reasonable driving distance. Discovering new bookstores and coffee shops is one of the reasons I’m fond of road trips. I also enjoy visiting friends and family, and I want to find time (and funding) to make these trips more often.
This weekend was the Denton Arts and Jazz Fest. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dreamed of missing it, even though until recently it was at the end of April, at the height of allergy season for me. I went every year. I would go on Friday if there was something special I wanted to see, but I was definitely there all day Saturday and at least in the evening for Brave Combo on Sunday. I just accepted that I wouldn’t really get a weekend off to reset socially, and it was worth it to me. I had a lot of fun at Jazz Fest, and I didn’t want to miss out.
I also got terribly sick at the end of each semester. I always thought it was just the stress/relief of finishing classes, but looking back, I’m not so sure. Thanksgiving through December was always busy with holiday travel and huge gatherings and shopping (and it was before the internet, so it was all in person *shudders*) and the local tree lighting festival, and the end of the spring semester was banquets and graduations and Jazz Fest. After I finished my last final (or, once I started teaching, handed in my grades), I took a breath and paused for a moment, and that was my body’s cue to shut down for about a week. I was alarmed the first couple of times it happened, but then I just accepted it.
I’ve learned how to avoid it now, but it does come at a price.
I need a lot of alone time. My specific concoction of introverted, socially anxious, sensory sensitive, and whatever else happens to be going on requires a certain amount of downtime to regroup, or I will get sick. It takes me a couple of hours every night to wind down, and I need at least two nights off a week when I just come home and decompress. It’s also imperative that I have at least two consecutive days a month in which I come home the night before the first day and don’t leave again until the morning after the second. Ideally, at least one weekend will be free for this to happen, but if not, I know I will need to take the appropriate amount of time off work to ensure that it does. To really thrive, I need more alone time than I’ve described here, but that’s the minimum. If I want to stay well, it’s not optional.
I suspect there are a lot of people for whom a great amount of solitude is necessary. I just don’t hear a lot of them talk about it. Maybe we’ve been taught to be ashamed that we can’t handle that much stimulation all the time without any real breaks like others seem to be able to. If that’s you, and no one has told you this yet, let me state clearly – there’s nothing wrong with you. Taking care of yourself is the right, responsible thing to do. You have nothing to be ashamed of.
I had hoped to go to Jazz Fest this weekend. One of the students I work with performed, and so did one of my friends’ bands that I haven’t seen in a long time. The original Blues Brothers band was there, and I always like looking at the booths (especially the jewelry) and camping out in front of the UNT stage on Sunday afternoon. Judging by the pictures on social media, I would have seen a lot of people I know and had a good time. I’m a little sad to have missed it.
But our cookbook club had a murder mystery dinner on Friday. We got to dress up and play catty characters. So much fun! And I spent last night jamming with some friends I get to perform with in November. This morning I went to church. I really like the study we’re doing now, and I got to sing in the choir. And tonight I sat by the fire with Spiderweb friends and watched (most of) The Mummy. It was a full, busy, lovely weekend that still left me with the large blocks of alone time I need to be ready for this week.
Sometimes it’s ok to miss good things. Lush life doesn’t mean you have to pack every waking moment with activities you love and force it all to fit. It means learning when not to.
Once I started exploring what it means to have a lush life, the word cozy kept coming up. And the more I started searching for cozy things, the more I kept running into posts and books about hygge. For those unfamiliar with the term (and clearly not on Pinterest, because it is all over Pinterest), hygge is a Danish concept that takes cozy to the next level. In addition to embracing comfort, it also includes elements of warmth, well-being, and connection.
I’m way down the hygge rabbit hole, so it’s likely to come up a few times this month. If you want a quick and charming crash course, I recommend The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking. Today, I’m giving you a brief overview of the five dimensions of hygge he outlines, which are essentially ways you can experience the phenomenon through your senses. Everyone’s preferences are going to be different, but I’ve included examples of mine. This is a particularly useful exercise for me, as I am easily overwhelmed by sensory input. It’s good to intentionally make note of the ones I enjoy.
Taste
Food is a big part of comfort, and the Danes know this. They have a whole pastry named after their nationality (which I really need to try in Denmark, I think. You know, to get the full experience.). When I think of cozy food, things that are familiar and satisfying come to mind:
Soups with a side of crusty bread
Eggs and toast
Oatmeal with dried fruit and maple syrup
Stir fry/warm salads
Peaches, nectarines, and apricots (really any fresh fruit, but those are my faves)
Antipasti – any combination of cheese, bread/crackers, pickles/olives, maybe salami or fruit
Burgers
Potatoes in any form. Particularly if there is also cheese involved.
There are also specific flavors that fit in this category for me. I love coconut and caramel and peppermint (not all together, though). And of course, a nice cup of coffee or hot tea increases the cozy factor of any activity.
Sound
I love rainy day sounds. Not just the rain but the things I like to do inside when there’s a storm outside. The tink of knitting needles. Soft instrumental music, particularly piano and/or acoustic base. Pages turning as I read. The washer and dryer running. Small sipping sounds as I try to drink my cup of tea before it’s cool enough to do so (this is the only eating/drinking sound I like at all, btw. All the rest are gross and upsetting. This is a hill I am prepared to die on.).
One of the reasons I find coffee shops so comforting is the combination of sounds coming from behind the counter. Kettles boiling. The clinks and clunks of the espresso machine. Coffee dripping and pouring. It’s very much what I imagine Heaven must sound like.
Also…when cats ekekekekek. That’s some good ASMR right there.
Smell
Coffee. Vanilla and butter. Citrus. Tomato or pea plants. Fresh bread. Food smells, basically, are my favorites.
The other scents I think of as comforting are those that remind me of a particular time, place, or event. For example, the very specific smell that hits me when I open up Mom’s Christmas cabinet where she stores all her decorations. It’s sort of like an apple/cinnamon smell but not quite.
Touch
One of the first things I did after I chose the word lush for my theme this year was to buy new bed linens. There was nothing wrong with the ones I had, but they were getting a little worn and scratchy. [So, I guess there was something wrong with them. I just feel wasteful if I get rid of something before it’s absolutely unusable (no worries – they have been refurbished into decorations/costumes).] I love flannel sheets, and I use them all year long. I also bought a comforter that is slightly weighted (not too much! Most weighted blankets are too much!), which helps me fall asleep. I like drinking out of glass or ceramic receptacles. I will drink out of metal or plastic or paper cups, but it’s just not the same.
I think I’ve gotten to the point where I absolutely refuse to wear hard pants. Jeans, slacks, anything that you have to button/zip? Not interested. I don’t even know that I own any such thing anymore. My daily attire is all dresses and skirts with either shorts or leggings. Comfy shoes that are designed for long hours roaming bookstores. Sweaters and other layers just in case the temperature suddenly changes because Texas. Bookcore for life.
Sight
I’m going to go into this more when I talk about having a cozy home later in the month, so I won’t dwell now, but muted lighting (I’m in the market for lamps), candles, and twinkle lights are my jam. I love dark, rich colors (and yes, classically eccentric is a good name for my preferred decorating style). In pictures or movie scenes or art, I prefer slow-moving ease to bustle. I favor open sky and beaches over woods or forest. I need intentional blank space in decorating, too.
My favorite part of this picture is the reflection of the sheet music in the black keys.
Other than the benefits and the frequent free food, one reason I stay at my full-time job is that I will be officially eligible to retire on August 1, 2030. That’s just eight years away (or seven years, nine months, and 27 days, but who’s counting). Assuming I am in a good financial position to do so at that point, this will allow me to dedicate significantly more time to what I actually want to be when/as I grow up.
An artist.
More specifically, a writer/musician/dancer, but I’m open to other forms of art. The relatively small amount of time I spend working on my works in progress, writing this blog, collaborating with Sarah and other friends, singing in the choir, and other artsy pursuits is what makes me come alive. It is my joy. Retiring this early will also afford me some flexibility in my schedule for attending performances (as well as performing in them) because there will be no office to report to the next morning. I can finally fully embrace the night owl I was born to be.
One of the most challenging realizations I’ve had this year while pondering what it means to live lushly is that doing a job that is consistent but doesn’t really allow me to use my strengths or do what I enjoy puts inherent limits on how much of such a life I can really have right now. Is it worth it? Is there something else I could be doing that would be more rewarding and still give me the stability I currently need? I don’t have answers to these questions yet, but the questions have prompted me to look for ways to incorporate my creative skills into the work I do and to be pickier about the things I volunteer for that don’t really fit my preferences.
At the very least, engaging in creative activities gives me something to look forward to, even if it’s not how I spend most of my time. I’m excited to go to choir practice tonight. And after taking a few years off, I signed up for NaNoWriMo next month. I’m going to try writing my novel in second person. That’s about as far into planning as I’ve gotten, which is actually good for this particular time frame because I write a lot faster as a pantser than a planner.
Almost every scenario I can think of that signifies the word lush has books in it somewhere. Either I’m sipping a coffee and reading a book or packing books to take with me on a trip or traveling specifically to one place just so that I can go to a particular bookstore. Or simply carrying a book around with me just in case I get a free moment to tuck into it. As detailed in last year’s 31 Days series, a life without the joy of reading is really no life at all to me.
Here’s what I am planning for my lush reading life to look like this month.
Book Clubs
I’m talking about books with a lot of people in October (I mean, even more than usual). This month’s list includes my usual 6-7 selections plus some extras because Martha Wells is going to be in town at Patchouli Joe’s mid-month, and also there’s a discussion group about one of last month’s (month before?) book club reads at the same bookshop the next night, so I want to finish it and the next 2-4 (they’re pretty short) in the Murderbot series. I’m also reading a book with our Neurodiversity Professional Network at work. Plus, two different book discussion groups through the public library (my usual one and then another new one that meets at local bars) are talking about psychological thrillers/mysteries this month, and I couldn’t decide which book I wanted to read, so I narrowed it down to two.
The list above is enough to keep me busy, but I’m still intent on finishing most of my reading challenge books this year (stay tuned for more about this later in the month), and there’s Dewey’s readathon coming up later this month, so I’m not daunted by a long reading list for October.
POPSUGAR – The way I decided which two thrillers to read for the library discussions was that they both meet certain prompts for this challenge. Strangers on a Train (sorta) meets the prompt of a train, plane, or cruise ship setting, and The Guest List features a party (i.e., a wedding).
Book Riot’s Read Harder – a horror novel by a BIPOC author – The Good House by Tananarive Due, and those from last month that I haven’t quite finished yet.
The 52 Book Club – Finally finishing up the book that’s been on my TBR the longest – The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I’m also getting really close to finishing this particular challenge, so that’s exciting.
Just Because
I got excited about these and can’t wait to read them…so I’m not gonna.
Clarification: Regardless of how the title sounds, I do not get sloshed at work. I get sloshed AFTER work, like a damn professional.
The place I spend 40+ hours a week has an inevitably large impact on the lushness of my life. It also, ideally, would fund a life that is periodically decadent and rich. A lot of my revision of the original ideal of what lush looks like in the life I currently have is affected by my job, so I thought I’d take at least one day to mention it. Let’s go ahead and get it out of the way.
Because many places I’ve worked have been big fans of the compliment sandwich [which is a misnomer, because sandwiches are named according to the things inside the bread, not the bread on the outside, which is where the compliments are positioned, and also because sandwiches are good, as opposed to this concept, which is a terrible way to deliver feedback], that is how I’m going to structure this post about work. *places tongue firmly in cheek*
I enjoy certain aspects of my job:
The people I work with are awesome. We’re a good team, and we get along well.
I have my own space to decorate and do with as I wish (to a reasonable extent – it’s a no on the margarita machine and the hammocks, apparently).
Employer-paid health coverage is good. So are university holidays that I get to take off without having to use the PTO I’ve earned (i.e., days we get in addition to our PTO).
I like helping students discover that they actually do know what they’re doing and can figure out where to go to get their questions answered. I also like telling them yes as often as possible.
I like the looks on the students’ faces when I have to gently remind their parents who dragged them into my office that they’re adults and thus afforded all the rights and responsibilities that go with that. It makes (most of) them so happy. Smug, even. Hold on to that, young friends.
I enjoy certain things we do on campus during the year. For example, I’m looking forward to the opportunity to attend the World Mental Health Day conference next Monday. Also, we get free food on a fairly regular basis, so that’s nice.
There are other aspects of the job that are nonsense, though.
There are general labor practices I take issue with, and of course, a large portion of the staff here are grossly underpaid. And save the argument – I don’t care about market value, or debt accrued because someone somewhere who makes more than most of us fucked something up, or politically motivated lawsuits, or that we hope to maybe do something about it next year if all the planets align correctly. I care that our full-time custodians have to have other jobs to make ends meet this month and that our rents that we don’t have the luxury of putting off until Fall 2023, when we are allegedly getting it together and moving people up to what they should already be making today, are rising exponentially but our paychecks are not.
I also don’t think we’re taken very seriously. I guess I can’t speak for everyone. I don’t think I’m taken seriously. I think I’m an afterthought. Even when I say, “This plan is probably not going to work well because of XYZ reasons, so let’s do this much more reasonable thing instead,” that doesn’t seem to have any effect, even though we’ve spent a lot of money and time as a department learning to recognize and hone our strengths, and I think a well-honed connectedness, input, ideation, intellection, strategic person such as I am, probably has the skills to foresee some things. It’s sort of what I do. What I’m best at, if you will.
A lot of the mental health challenges I’ve faced this year are due to a not-great plan that was implemented in the office at the beginning of the summer. I don’t want to go into details here – but my new work environment is bad for me. Yes, I’ve said so. Repeatedly. Broken-record-ly.
I don’t know what to do. I’m looking for other jobs. I’ve even done the math to see if I can expand my side hustle full time (with my current teams, I’d have to write 45-50 hours a week and pray that there are no assignment lulls ever. Not interested in that instability at all.). But most days, I’m having to focus way too hard to put a sentence together to speak intelligently to a customer on the phone by mid-afternoon, and my executive function has plummeted overall, so something has to change, because this is not sustainable.
As promised, here’s the other side of the sandwich. I’ve joined the Neurodiversity Professional Network on campus, and I really like them. I’m tabling with them at a staff event this Friday, and I may do so at the conference on Monday, too. It’s good to learn ways to advocate for each other, and this provides a forum for doing so that extends beyond what even the best session or seminar can teach. Being a part of this group gives me hope that changes and reasonable solutions are possible.
Today, I want to daydream a little. Journey with me, if you will, to what a typical week of lush life would look like to me. Some of these things are already firmly in place in my life; some will have to wait until I retire (at least partially. Eight. More. Years.) and have the time to incorporate them. This life as a whole also requires a somewhat bigger, definitely steadier income (I really just need to make every month what I make in a good month).
It’s good to have goals.
Overall, the things I think of when I imagine a lush life basically boil down to five elements:
Good balance of company and solitude
Good food
Cozy environments
Meaningful work
Lots of time for play
So let’s begin.
At no point in a truly lush life will I wake to an alarm. Each day starts with waking up naturally, whenever I am fully rested, as God and nature intended. As a night owl who tries (and perpetually fails) to overcome my natural tendencies in order to make life with a work schedule created by capitalism and sadistic morning people more manageable, I may actually have a ceremony where I dispose of my alarm clock when I retire.
Even if I’m rested, any activities where I have to be dressed, social, and coherent before noon are just the worst. So my ideal day is one that allows me to ease into it. A French press of coffee and a good breakfast (mmm…veggie omelet with toast…or poached eggs over potatoes) are required. As long as we’re dreaming, I would like to insert the company of a partner who shares both cooking/cleaning duties and my preference for rampant lounging at the start of the day. Alternatively, I am content listening to whatever audiobook I’m reading, show I’m currently bingeing, or background music softly crooning from the record player. The rest of the morning is likely to be spent reading or working on a craft/art project such as knitting or art journaling.
Afternoons are for responsibilities, because no matter how lush my life becomes, someone still has to do laundry (and also I sort of love doing laundry so, by someone, I am happy to mean me). Having said this, I want the luxury of being picky about which work I do and which work I delegate. For example, I am usually pretty good about keeping up with most daily chores, such as washing dishes or tidying, but I fall behind on things like dusting and vacuuming because I can’t just do part of the house and be satisfied, so I find the size of the job overwhelming to the point of inaction. I want to be able to hire someone to do all the chores and errands that I dislike (and thus avoid until they’re really out of control).
Three or four days a week, my main goal for the afternoon is to write. Most of the time will be spent on creative works in progress, but I also want to maintain my current writing job or something like it to keep a steady income. On the off days, I’ll probably spend the non-chore time running errands, which includes frequenting my favorite local coffee shops and bookstores.
I will likely spend most evenings pretty much the same way I do now – book clubs, choir, attending (or performing in) shows and concerts, hanging out with beloved folk, or staying at home to read. Maybe this fabled partner and I go out dancing occasionally. How lovely that would be. Another habit I would like to resume as I mold my life into something more manageable is to have people over for dinner and drinks on a fairly regular basis. It’s a lot of work, as there are several things (many of which are mentioned above) that have to be in place for me to be relaxed enough to enjoy it, but sometimes I miss it.
Of course, there will be exceptions to this general structure. There will be day trips with friends, library book club or church in the mornings on some weekends, and doctor’s appointments that I almost always schedule at the beginning of the day so I can cross them quickly off the list. And at least three times a month, I’m going to need a mental health day in which all scheduling, planned productivity, chores, and socializing go out the window. Just a slow day spent in my favorite comfy pants that I don’t wear in public, enjoying copious amounts of hot tea, books, music, blankets, naps, and maybe a walk. Opportunities for extended rest are important even when I’m living my most charmed life.
There is more to lush living, of course, but this is the basic lifestyle I’d love to have.
When I chose lush (pardon me…LUSH) as my theme word for this year, I imagined quite a few possible scenarios:
Home and patio full of healthy plants
Delicious, wholesome (and sometimes decadent) meals
Calm, unrushed afternoons spent in coffee shops or bookstores
Good cheese, wine, and coffee
Regularly designated time to make art
Organized nooks throughout the apartment designed to maximize coziness
Fun outings with friends and family
It seemed so simple and exciting. But it turns out, there are reasons those things weren’t happening on a regular basis already.
First of all, these things cost money. Not a lot, for the most part, but still more than I have coming in on the regular. My budget is very basic, and until I get a better job or become inexplicably wealthy, it’s got to stay that way. So one challenge I’ve been tackling is to envision a lush life that doesn’t depend on spending more.
Second, these things take time. Extra time to do more of anything turns into a scarce commodity when you have two jobs and a lot of other responsibilities that (allegedly) come first. I stepped down from a few things I was doing last year, but then I became church council president this year. I am glad to be asked to serve, but it’s been a lot, and I am counting the days until it’s over. In fact, I am working on significantly streamlining how I use the free time I have available. For example, at church, maybe I have fewer weeknight meetings but more engagement on Sunday mornings when I’m already attending the service anyway. At work, maybe I stop volunteering for everything that looks vaguely interesting so I can focus on things I enjoy and not be so overwhelmed all the time (to the small extent that I can control that. More on this later in the month).
Also more breaks. Particularly at and from work. I’m not great at taking breaks.
Third, I forgot to factor in mental health. I set the bar for lush life really high. There’s nothing wrong with high standards, of course. A cozy, tidy home with lots of greenery, comforting homemade meals, large blocks of time to be creative, and also adequate quality time to spend with people I love? Sounds lovely. Wonderful. A fantastic way to live and a grand life to have.
It also sounds like a lot of work.
I have had some heightened mental health struggles this year that I did not anticipate. Burnout, executive dysfunction, and sensory sensitivity make getting through even the simplest to-do list a challenge some days. And by some, I do mean most. On those days, does lush life look like cooking good meals (and cleaning up afterward) and trying to find scraps of focus/energy to do creative things or hang out with friends? Or does it look like eating a bowl of cereal and calling it a night with a cup of tea and a good book? I know I’m worth the effort it would take to do the former, but I’m also worth the rest I get from doing the latter. Some days, it’s hard to tell which is better.
This month, I’m going to write through more of these thoughts on what I thought lush life would be, what it’s actually turning out to be, and what I think of that. I have some feelings. You’ve been warned.
Near the beginning of the year, I checked out a book at the library on someone’s recommendation. It was called Forget Prayers, Bring Cake: A Single Woman’s Guide to Grieving. I kept taking it back and checking it out again rather than just reading it. I was skeptical for three reasons:
Cutesy (almost flippant?) title for a discussion on grief? I get that people cope in different ways, but that’s…not mine.
Singling out singles is a necessary point of this discussion, and I can confirm that there are challenges with grief that are specific to not having a partner, but gendering it rubs me the wrong way.
The cover design is absurd (click the link above if you’re curious). You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but we all do it, and I judged this one HARD.
I’m so glad I finally read it.
This is the best book I’ve read on the practicalities of dealing with grief and building a support system specifically for the process. It’s the perfect combination of memoir, guide, and comfort. As someone who incorporates tasks into emotional processing (i.e., simply talking or crying it out without a physical energy release often makes the situation worse for me), I appreciate the checklists and suggestions.
As my parents are getting older, we are having more conversations about what they want to happen, how we take over the farm as seamlessly as possible, and how it all gets paid for. Just having the conversations are emotional, and it’s helpful to acknowledge and process those feelings as they come, but it feels weird to future-grieve. This book gave me the validation and permission I didn’t know I needed, and Gerson’s kind-but-direct approach gave it to me in exactly the way I needed it.
I know I usually list five books that I enjoyed from the previous month, but this one stood out so far beyond the rest. This may be my favorite book I’ve read thus far this year.
M. Suzanne Terry 