You Cannot Self-Care Your Way Into an Easy Life

Last week, I had a draft written of a post about the spiritual practice of regulating your nervous system. Then on the day I planned to polish it up and publish it, I had one of the most dysregulated days of the summer so far.

One of the gifts and curses of writing, teaching, or leading is that the topics you share are generally part of your own struggle. I am passionate about certain subjects not because I’m an expert, but because I’ve had to do so much of my own work within it. And our work is never done.

So last week, I decided to set the piece aside and proceeded to practice what I preach, as I did what I could to take care of myself and get what I needed for that day.

I still plan to publish that piece. But that day stirred something in me that I think is worth sharing first.

Sometimes we can do all our essential self-care routines and spiritual practices, and we still cannot avoid the crash.

Even when I did all of the physical and spiritual practices that I know are necessary to sustain me, I still had an emotional breakdown at the end of that day.

It doesn’t mean I’m doing it wrong. It means I’m human.

It means that sometimes, a day really does hold more than we can handle (despite the cliches that might tell us otherwise).

What I’m learning is that it’s important to know not only the benefits of spiritual practices, but also their limits.

This particular day last week was really hard on multiple levels. My kids were having a hard time for all sorts of reasons I won’t get into, but suffice it to say: IT’S SUMMER.

Navigating that day with its demands and emotions drained my energy and motivation. So then we all reverted to screens more, which just makes it worse. I knew it wasn’t helpful. But we just could not find our footing or figure out what to do to get the day on track.

And here’s the thing: I did my normal practices that day. I got up early to read scripture, pray, and journal. I went on my walk in the morning. I did Pilates in the afternoon. I tried to regulate my nervous system throughout the day.

I did all the things that usually set me up well for the day. These are the spiritual, emotional, and physical self-care practices that connect me to God and myself, that give me energy and help me feel like myself.

And it still wasn’t enough. Because some days, life is just too much.

Even when we regulate our nervous system and faithfully follow our spiritual routines and practices, there is no insulating ourselves from the stresses and struggles of life.

We cannot do enough breathing exercises or journaling to maintain an inner peaceful feeling throughout our entire day. This is simply not possible or realistic.

Life is hard, and no amount of spiritual practices will change that.

Spiritual practices–for our mind, body, and soul–is not about a formula to make life feel good. It’s about creating space for the deep and difficult inner healing that only comes from God’s Spirit within us.

And healing often hurts before it feels better.

We grow and we make slow progress. We fall short and fail, and we begin again.

The goal is not ease and feeling good. It’s leaning all the way in to the beauty and brokenness of the reality of our life.

We still create routines and rhythms in our life for self-care and spiritual growth. It matters, and it does help. But we are not trying to fix ourselves or anyone else.

Because we are not problems to be solved, but people to be loved. And that begins with receiving love ourselves. This is what changes us.

But it’s not meant to be easy. We cannot spiritually practice our way into comfort. That’s not the deal, nor is it the goal.

It’s so important to remember what spiritual practices are, and what they are not. Yes, we embrace them and pursue them and prioritize them. But we also need to name and acknowledge the limits of them. We cannot elevate spiritual practices into something they were never intended to be.

They are not the formula or pathway to an easy, breezy life. It’s not about feeling good. It’s about transformation, and that is not an easy or comfortable process.

And the truth is that God is in all the chaos and the hard places too. He is not waiting impatiently by your quiet time chair for you to show up. He is with you in all of it, and often the deepest transformation comes in the hardest, loudest, messiest places of our lives.

We still pursue the quiet and solitude. We keep carving out space to still our souls and listen. But we’re also paying attention in the chaos, and we’re finding God present and active in all of it.

There are days we will do everything we can to try and take care of ourselves, and the crash or the breakdown still comes. We are still human, and we can only bend so far until sometimes, we break.

But there is still healing and restoration, and it’s never too late to begin again.

I’m happy to report that particular day was, for the most part, just one really hard day amongst an otherwise pretty good week. But there will always be ups and downs, and sometimes, the pain of life outpaces our ability to regulate through it.

There is room for the emotions, even the ones that are hard, and it’s all forming us as we notice God within it.

Tell us in the comments: What are the benefits AND limits of self-care and spiritual practices that you have experienced?

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