Guilt-Free Pleasures
My sister Delish and I are sharing a tender moment after everyone else has gone to sleep. A certain reality tv show is on and she is yelping late night food options on her phone for when she goes to pick up her boyfriend – no – her husband (!) from the late night train. And I’m typing this. Quality time, seriously. We’re on a comfy sofa in the upstairs family room trying to be quiet, me cross-legged, her lounging with her little feet tucked under me absent-mindedly. “This is my guilty pleasure!” she says re: the trash TV. And I’m like, “Do it, girl.”
Delish works really hard, long hours, twenty-something Manhattanite style –helping people with dementia and Alzheimer’s, while still doing some independent artist dance stuff. She’s freaking brilliant and pouring it out there and if an hour of junk tv feels good after a hard-core day of auntie-ing and a hard-core week/life of do-gooding, there need not be any guilt involved. Just pleasure.
From the train Uncle Dan has texted her that he requires a meal and a beer before coming back to the house and entering the world of our family. I’m like, “Do it, Uncle Dan.” Get on that thing you need. Eat and drink it up.
The rest of my family members have their things too, and of course so do I. Rosie needs a Pilates class, though she’s not sure she can break away for the hour. My dad needs an after-dinner drive to town for “coffee,” even though we have coffee at home. Who knows what he gets out of that drive, maybe seeing a wee bit of life before an early bedtime, or just letting off steam.
I’m sure Dad did not get any kind of sweet treat at the bakery. No, not that. Whatever he got, I’m glad he got it, and I hope he feels happy about it, guilt-free.
Ax and Parker have their comforts, and they need them and get them met, and I certainly have mine too. Good food, exercise, writing, sleep, and meetings, not necessarily in that order.
I’m on track for a meeting every single day of this trip, passing on family lunch, taking a midday break during prime beach time, and missing whatever precious moment might have transpired had I not scooted off for a random hour in a random church basement in Long Island. The precious moments I’m having all the other hours of the day, however, are made possible, or certainly more probable, by going to the meetings. So I gotta get on that thing I need.
I really am grateful I know what I need and I’m willing to get it. And I’m so grateful my family supports me getting what I need and I can support them getting what they need. It’s not all the same thing, but in a weird way it kind of is all the same thing.
Self-care is self-care. And I’m doing it. And it’s awesome. Being who I am, just who I am, and not trying to be better than I am, with my family who are each being who they are, is wonderful. What a guilt-free pleasure it is to be me.