On a typical list of things that constitute self-care, you’ll probably find bubble baths, long walks in the words, romantasy novels, chocolate everything, and probably a moment or two to meditate. There’s nothing wrong with any of these practices. I’ll take as many of them as I can get, but when I think of caring for my self, I don’t think any of these things, alone or in combination, are enough.
It’s important to point out, right from the get-go, that some (not all) versions of self-care are part of a gazillion-dollar industry, not an altruistic and inclusive movement towards peace and enlightenment. If you buy this, go here, subscribe to that, or pay admission to something, your self will supposedly be all the better for it. Maybe we can sometimes throw money at self-care, and maybe sometimes it will help, but we should do so with a critical eye, and an awareness that there are things we can do that are free and accessible to anyone, anytime, anywhere.
I’d like to propose that no self-care regimen is complete without room for critical reflection, especially of the philosophical variety. And yes, I will acknowledge that philosophy is probably the very last thing most people conjure up when planning to pamper and heal themselves, but please hear me out. Asking “why” and puzzling through various answers needs to be added to the program.
Now, cue the complaints:
Self-care is supposed to make you feel good. Philosophy, in contrast, can make you feel decidedly not good. It can make you uncertain and doubtful. It can encourage “overthinking” (god, I hate that word). It leads to a busy brain and chronic motor mouth.
Self-care is usually thought of as being about living in the now, being present, checking in and shutting off for a moment. Philosophy, on the other hand, is very much a long game. Nuggets of it can be done in short bursts, but implicit in it is a commitment to coming back to the same ideas and problems over and over again, as many times as necessary, for as long as necessary.
Self-care can be about treating the mind and spirit, but quite often, it’s closely tied to treating the body. It’s meant to soothe jangled nerves, bring physical rest, and to feed what asks to be fed. Philosophy is much more closely linked to the intellect, and when you do self-care, you’re supposed to switch off the think-y stuff for a while.
I’d like to address all three of these objections with one question: Exactly what kind of self are we aiming to care for? Seriously, is the self so simple and uncomplicated that it can be soothed, fed and healed with fuzzy bunny slippers and frosted brownies? Is this all the care that a poor, weary, beleaguered self is entitled to? When we talk about self, are we only referring to the squishy meat sack we tote around from day to day? Is the self really just a thin veneer, or might it be something a little more sophisticated, something that needs more?
With that in mind, here is my list of all of the ways philosophy cares for the self:
Philosophy makes the self a little more flexible, a little more amenable to change, a little more able to handle conflict. If caring for the self includes future-proofing it, then philosophy needs to be included in the process.
Philosophy encourages growth, on both a personal and communal level. It means considering new points of view, and new solutions to problems. It helps a self to understand itself, others, and the world around it. It builds connection.
Philosophy is empowerment and, in a way, self-preservation. It’s harder to be a sucker when you’re constantly asking why and demanding explanations and proof. True, this might make a person less popular, but maybe scraping away anyone who would ask you to smile and nod ought to count as caring for the self.
Human selves are, at least in part, thinking selves. It’s an itch our selves need to scratch, or the questions and thoughts just pile up and make us miserable.
This isn’t a new conversation in philosophy. John Stuart Mill once insisted “It is better to be a human dissatisfied than a pig satisfied”, and expounded the benefits of aiming for higher, longer-lasting gratification. There have been numerous and ongoing discussions of hedonism, namely, the idea of avoiding pain, and not just pursuing pleasure. A whole bunch of clever selves throughout history have pointed out that quick hits of happiness aren’t enough.
Listen, I’m not launching an attack on creature comforts like the ones we usually associate with self-care. Take a nap, light a candle that smells like sugar cookies, make a cup of tea, put on your favourite mushy movie, and paint your toenails purple. All of those things feel pretty darn good, but I have to say, so does feeling clever and creative, like you’re able to handle hard stuff and solve problems. So does feeling wise and reasonable and empathetic. Pretty please, throw in a few big questions here and there. Spend some of your self-care time wondering about things like truth, beauty, justice, and love. Challenge yourself to think differently about them, maybe even share them with other selves, and make your way in the world differently because of them. Carve out time to hold an idea that’s provocative and complex, and maybe a little spiky around the edges. Use your self-care time to care for the parts of your self that really matter.