Self Care in the Peace Corps: A 2-year Commitment to Wellness

Artsy shot of my mug of Ricoffy (instant coffee of Moz that is, like, 60% chicory) taken in my backyard.

Thousands of miles from home, in a near-constant state of confusion, feeling a mixture of awe and sadness.

Let's be real for a second. Sometimes living in a new country is HARD. I want this blog to be about my experiences here in Mozambique and not merely a highlight reel of my favorite parts. I don't want it to ever seem like I'm in love with every minute of every day because I'm not. I don't think that is humanly possible or remotely attainable.

To me, being authentic means being honest, even if my truth isn't always pretty. I want to challenge the idea that in order for us to be happy and fulfilled, we have to tell ourselves that everything is alright all the time. Going through huge life changes (like, you know, moving to another country for 27 months) is HARD. Learning a new language (or two) is HARD. Adjusting to a different culture respectfully and justly is HARD. Bearing witness to struggle with an empathetic heart is HARD. Being a representative of the United States and thus feeling like I'm being on display constantly is HARD.

Telling myself that these things should be easy is silly. It's a lie. Sometimes after a long day I find myself making a note of everything I'm grateful for and I often forget to show gratitude for the tough stuff the same way I do for everything that brings me joy.

Let's face it. The tough stuff is much more difficult to be grateful for, but the moments of struggle in our days are just as important as everything else. These moments are small reminders that we are alive, growing, and constantly changing.

It's life pushing back, saying "I know that you are capable of more."

During the three months of training, I found it difficult to find ways to process through everything going on around me and within me. I have to admit that I wasn't doing a great job at taking care of myself and I didn't realize how I had built myself a system of self-accountability and care in the states of which I unintentionally left behind.

I didn't want to let myself believe that my things back home had that much value to me anymore. I wanted to break free from everything in order to start this new chapter without being held back by things I thought I didn't need.

Some of these things included earthy-scented candles, my ukulele, watercolor paints, smelly-good bath products, and old birthday cards and notes from friends and family.

Now that I'm in my new home, I have made it a priority these first weeks to rebuild my system of self care and accountability because I believe that resilience means having myself to fall back on when things aren't totally peachy. I didn't realize how much a candle-lit reading sesh at the end of the day could make such a difference in my overall wellbeing. I didn't think that playing my ukulele (poorly) would be something that I missed so much and I underestimated the healing power of a nice lavender-scented lotion because honestly, that sounds so silly to say out loud. But those are just a few things that I knew I needed before my big move and that brought me a sense of calm.

I'm not saying that a trip to LUSH (my absolute favorite store in Chicago) can save the world or even save me from a dreadful day. I'm saying that knowing what little routines, hobbies, and rituals make me feel like myself are not just a form of pampering and escape. These are things that help me "fill my cup," so to speak. These things are different for everyone and even mine have changed a lot since coming to Mozambique.

My yoga and meditation space: incense, Tibetan song bowl and chimes, mala necklace, journal, and my beloved yoga mat.

Here are a few things I know I can do to recharge here:

Daily yoga and meditation (with my favorite incense)
Reading before bed with the light of a candle or a lamp
Doing a clay face mask every once in a while (one thing I'm SO glad I brought with me to Moz)
Waking up early
Cooking up new recipes (and sharing them here, of course!)
Visiting my family here**** (stars for how this is probably my favorite form of self-care)
Hanging out in my hammock under a shady tree
Listening to my favorite music
Getting creative with new DIY projects
Dousing everything I eat (ok, not eeeverything) with Valentina hot sauce
Spending a day at the beach
Keeping up with my bullet journal
Watercolor painting
Coloring/drawing/anything artsy
Having a heart-to-heart with my roomie
Filling my room with as many little plants as I can without attracting too many bug friends
Drinking LOTS of water (trust me, this really makes a difference)
Talking to the women in the market and trying out new Xitswa phrases (usually to a chorus of laughter)

Going outside, taking a big, deep breath, and appreciating how devastatingly beautiful this place is.

This is me, taking a casual selfie with my new plant friend while the kids next door judge me for being a strange plant-loving lady.

I'm writing these things here not only because they may resonate with someone out there reading my blog, but also to hold myself accountable. It can be so easy to forget to do these things, even though I know they bring me joy. Taking care of ourselves is a JOB sometimes. This is a promise to myself to not only do these things, but take care of myself intentionally. I'm here to do a job but I'm also here to grow, to experience something new, and challenge myself more than I have before. Therefore, I think self-care is an absolute essential during this crazy roller coaster that is Peace Corps service.

With that, I'll leave you with a nice little quote about self-care that I think captures what I'm trying to say in fewer (and more eloquent) words.

"You're so hard on yourself.
Take a moment.
Sit back.
Marvel at your life.
at the grief that softened you,
at the heartache that wisened you,
at the suffering that stregthened you.
Despite everything,
you still grow.
Be proud of this."
-Unknown




With love,


Emily

Ok, one more plant pic. This is an aloe plant I randomly found on a roadside stall. I nearly cried because I'd been searching for aloe since I got to Moz.

My views and opinions are my own and do not reflect those of the United States government or Peace Corps organization.