Care Isn’t Luxury — It’s Survival

Headspace Studio. Hey there. Welcome to Radio Headspace. It's Dora. I was watching Vogue's 73 Questions with Tracee Ellis Ross on YouTube, and she was talking about how she lovingly tends to her home. Not because anyone else is coming over, but because she lives there. She said something like, "I make my bed for me. "I light candles for me. "I cook a beautiful dinner for me." And I thought, yes, that is self-care, not obligation. Just pure, intentional tending to what's yours. And I deeply believe that self-care begins with how we treat ourselves, our time, our space, and our energy. When we care inward, we move through the world more grounded, more whole, and better able to care for others from that place. This reminds me of a Zen story about a woodcutter who worked from sunrise to sunset, growing more exhausted each day. When a traveler asked why he didn't sharpen his ax, the woodcutter replied, "I don't have time to sharpen it. "I'm too busy cutting." The traveler smiled and said, "If you took time to sharpen the ax, "you'd need less effort to cut." For some, the story may be what we've always done. We push through, we give, we grind, telling ourselves we don't have time to rest or care, or even just breathe. But eventually the blade dulls, the energy runs out. And what we're left with is burnout, resentment, and a deep sense of disconnection. But what if care wasn't something we earn after we've done enough? What if care was the foundation that allowed everything else to flourish? Tracee Ellis Ross tending to her home like a sanctuary just for herself. That's what this kind of self-care looks like. It's not extravagant, it's not loud. It's brushing your teeth slowly instead of rushing through it. It's stepping outside for five minutes to feel the sun on your face. It's drinking water before you're parched. It's saying no without apology. Self-care is in the details. And when you start tending to yourself like you're someone, you're responsible for loving, everything changes. Your presence becomes more rooted, your boundaries get clearer. You give from a place of fullness instead of depletion. And sometimes we think that self-care has to be dramatic or time consuming, but often it's the opposite. It's five minutes of stillness before the day begins. It's eating lunch without multitasking. It's closing your eyes and putting a hand on your heart when things feel overwhelming. And here's the most beautiful part. When you care for yourself this way, it creates a ripple. You begin to see others with more compassion. You stop expecting them to meet needs you've never acknowledged in yourself, and your relationships shift from dependency to wholeness, from obligation to choice. So for today, ask yourself, what part of me needs care right now? Is it your body, your energy, your spirit? And what's one small nourishing thing that you could offer it? It doesn't have...