After thirty years of recovery, I’ve learned how to take care of myself; I’m grateful that I know when the emotional well-spring and my creative gas tank is low and needs to be refilled. What self-care looks like for me may be different than it is for you. It’s important that we all discover what we need and find a way to incorporate that aspect of self-care into our lives.
I’ve come to learn that for me, I feel the most stressed when I trudge on even when every fiber of my being wants to run away—to withdraw—to have time alone where there is no pressure to talk, to write, to work, to nurture, to digest all the information that we’re bombarded with every day. I’m an INFJ, and perhaps that’s some of the reason why I insist on taking some serious time alone. I can feel it in my soul when I need to take a break. I’ve learned to listen to and honor those whispers.
My go-to place is a monastery that sits on fifteen hundred bucolic areas. The solitude is bliss. There is no talking allowed. If people feel they have to speak they can feel free to take a hike on the numerous trails outside of the monastery and carry on their conversations. I can’t think of any other place where I can go to escape noise pollution. Our everyday lives are littered with noise from traffic, cell phones, televisions, radios, airplanes, trains, and people. There are few places where one can find quiet.
Gethsemane is one of those rare places where silence is honored. One afternoon I hiked up a small hill and spent some time watching the abundant butterflies dance in the meadow of purple clover. It was an astounding sight to see—the sheer abundance of Painted Ladies, Monarchs and Eastern Tiger Swallowtails that flitted amongst buzzing bees—I thought this is probably how it’s supposed to be before we ruined so much of nature with development and pesticides.
For some people, the thought of spending even one day alone in silence may sound scary or ‘boring” but there is nothing boring about finding out if we can live alone with our thoughts. When we free ourselves from ourselves—we can then be open to the world and others. We find our gift and can use our gifts when we are no longer preoccupied with self, and when we’ve made peace with ourselves.
We suffer internal conflict, and a battle rages within when our lofty expectations of how we think our lives should be don’t match our reality.
For those of us who have found recovery—nothing happened until we admitted we were powerless. We had to surrender our will and believe that we needed help. When we become humble, we become teachable, and sadly, many people refuse to become humble—they believe they are in charge and will figure it all out and do it their way. Often the result of the “I’m gonna do it my way” mindset is that people remain unhealed. They harbor anger and resentments that they can’t let go of. They never really change at their core—they just change some things and are satisfied that that’s change enough.
Silence exposes what’s in our hearts. It exposes what’s on our minds. When you step into solitude and away from distractions you learn if you can live with yourself. It’s like asking God, “Show me where I’m unhealed.” When you hear the noise in your head you come to learn what inner work still needs to be done. Solitude is a special gift that we can give to ourselves. I encourage everyone to make the trek into what may seem like unknown territory—your heart—for it is there that you’ll find your heaven.
Lisa Boucher is the award-winning author of “Raising The Bottom: Making Mindful Choices in Drinking Culture.” She has contributed to notable publications such as Shape Magazine, U.S. News & World Report, The Fix, and is a frequent guest on numerous syndicated radio and podcast shows where she talks about addiction, alcoholism, childhood trauma, and how we can heal. She is highly intuitive and has assisted hundreds of people in healing from substance abuse, depression, and anxiety. A recovering alcoholic, she has been sober for thirty years and understands the complex nature of addiction and how childhood trauma is often at the root of what ails us. A registered nurse, Lisa believes that traditional healthcare does little to incorporate the mind-body connection, nor does our current healthcare system appreciate the healing power of nature.