I was swimming at the health club last week, or trying to, finding any movement in water easier than moving on land. Why?  Because it was the end of December, of course, and into an already full month of working, taking care of my home, my family, my mother, the holiday decorating, shopping, wrapping, shipping, baking, sending cards, and doing whatever else I could manage to ensure my family and friends had a special Christmas, I had added commuting with my husband to southern New Jersey a couple times a week to see our son play basketball, and then driving back home, generally the same day, or make that night into the morning. Sound like a lot to juggle? Apparently my spine thought so, too.  About two weeks before Christmas, my back went out, landing me flat on my back for the first three days, and with limited movement for the next three weeks.  

Be careful what you wish for.  Before the injury, as my exhaustion sunk to deeper lows, I had thought more than once, "all I need is a couple days of doing nothing." I got it.  I hadn't asked for excruciating pain and the inability to roll even a quarter turn without yelling, but I got that, too.  

Normally, I swim laps on an off day from working out.  I swim between 20 and 30 laps, mostly at an easy pace, varying the strokes.  The point is moving and stretching more than cardio or muscle work.  This day in the pool, the point was moving, period.  Even swimming is hard when some of your back muscles are so stiff you cannot straighten your spine.  I got through about 10 laps, and as I grimaced and prepared to ignore my discomfort and muscle through some more (Hmmm, any wonder how I got to the point of break down in the first place?), a question came to mind. Why? Why are you going to do more? I stopped swimming for a moment and relaxed against the side as a suggestion popped into my head.  Be a friend to yourself. 

I do not consider myself a particularly religious person.  Spiritual, yes.  Religious, no.  And yet, what had popped into my head reminded me of the phrase drilled into me as a child.  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  I can remember hearing this in Sunday school, coloring worksheets with this message, reading stories with this as the motto, always with an emphasis on the do unto others.  The point seemed to be we were all horrendous sinners who needed to be reminded every second to consider someone other than ourselves.  (On a sidenote:  this is key to why I do not consider myself a religious person, but I digress...) 

I do not think this is true, that we as humans are such selfish pigs.  Or let me restate.  When I consider most of the women I know—mothers, daughters, spouses, sisters, teachers, nurses, social workers—I do not think this is true.  Really, for every woman who lives the feminine tendency to care and nurture for people, and this is the large majority of us, thinking about others before ourselves is what we do a large portion of the time.  To the point of imbalance, which is never a good place to be, for a spine, or a heart, or a person.   

I didn't swim any more laps. I got out, carefully, using the ladder, and went to take a eucalyptus steam which felt marvelous.  And I decided that for 2011, I would contemplate a corollary of that phrase that focused on a different, but equally important facet of the original wisdom.  Do unto yourself, too, as you would have others do unto you!  

My wish for 2011 is that we women add taking care of ourselves into the mix this year. We're worth it.   

Have a happy new year.