On walking and the changing nature of self care
I had a couple of revelations this week.
I saw a tiktok where someone described their restful time as letting their brain be unregulated a bit. They spoke about going to a bunch of appointments and on the journey to and from these appointments they let their brain do it’s thing without too much active regulation, like a dog being let off a lead. It triggered a realisation in me.
I realised that’s what walking gives me. I have spoken before about how I sometimes need to redirect my brain when I’m walking because I’ll have fictional arguments in my head, but for the most part, I let my brain wander. I’ve described the practice as ‘parallel play, but with yourself’.
I do the vast majority of my walking alone, and so I don’t need to be especially present (other than what’s needed for safety, of course). I don’t need to be anything other than myself walking around. I don’t have to be a human who has a job, or has chores to do or anything. I’m just a little guy walking down the road, letting my brain wander as it needs to.
While I was thinking about this the phrase ‘walking means I’m free’ came to my mind, and it’s true. It’s always been true. I was always volunteering to go to the shops or run general errands growing up because it meant I was out of the house and free from my family. Sometimes it was the only alone time I had, as I was often sharing a bedroom with siblings and generally my family had no sense of privacy or space.
I think that association still lives in may brain, albeit subconsciously until now.
When I’m at my most anxious, I fall back into what can only be described as Eldest Sibling vibes. I feel like I need to make sure we have food in the house, plan meals, be the person who does the chores, generally be in charge of managing the household.
Once, the day before I was due to travel to London for a few days, I went and got lunch for my partner for the week, and filled the fridge with food. My partner said to me that while he appreciated not having to think about these things, he didn’t want to encourage such obvious trauma responses, and that it wasn’t my job to look after him. He had lived alone before, after all.
I know all of this. I know that one of my most toxic thought patterns is a mix of martyring myself while never asking for help (or asking if I need to do the things I’m exhausting myself doing), and going above and beyond for people, trying to anticipate their needs before they even think of them, and then wondering why I’m not getting the same appreciation of my needs.
The issue is: no one asked me to do this, they don’t realise that I’m doing this for them, and if they did, they’d probably tell me to calm down, and not baby them. Like, my partner has done (and still does). The outcome is that I exhaust myself, my partners don’t realise I’m spending all this energy on them, and I’m left feeling neglected and exhausted.
I’m learning to both voice my needs and not take on all the planning of everything all the time. I’m learning to ask for help, even if mentally I’ve decided that this task is ‘my job’. I’m trying to learn to not put every task on a scale, to figure out ‘equal’ or ‘fair’, and instead engage in a give and take in flux. I’m learning to manage my own expectations of myself.
However, when I’m walking, I don’t need to do any of this. I’m just walking. I can listen to what I want, I can be whatever version of me that’s present at the moment. I can talk myself down, or pep myself up. It’s time that’s mine entirely, for the duration of the walk.
I don’t want it to sound like I’m constantly at war with myself, and I don’t ever find time to just be unregulated and free at home, because I do. It’s more to do with how walking has always represented freedom and a space that’s mine, despite it being in public. When I’m at my most anxious, walking is my go to, and I think part of why it works is because it’s connected with being free from obligations and expectations - even the ones I have of myself.
It’s interesting how necessity has formed one of the fundamental constants in my life. Even when I lived alone, walking was still a fundamental part of my self care. It represents more than just escape from a home that never felt like home now, but the fundamentals: of having time where my mind can wander, where I don’t need to be anything or anyone in particular, with no goal other than my destination still ring true.
It’s interesting how your relationship to self care activities can change as you change. While the broad strokes might remain the same, the reasoning or the way you use them can change. It’s also a nice reminder for me that I tend to put the most pressure on myself, and sometimes instead of going for a walk, I can figure out why I’m putting my pressure on myself, and try to absolve myself of it (and then go for a walk).