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Why is it so hard for us to indulge ourselves?
By Mary Ann Cook
In the midst of a heat wave, most of us can kick back and do a little less than usual, but the rest of the time it seems our focus is nose-to-the-grindstone. We find it hard to reward ourselves for a job well done, a mission accomplished, an obstacle overcome. And yet it's a very therapeutic thing to do, so we really ought to do more of it.
I once interviewed a family counselor whose key point was that we are all remiss in giving gifts to ourselves. She said she herself always wanted to be given flowers. Big showy flowers on a regular basis. But her husband wasn't very forthcoming in this department.
Finally, she realized that this bounty didn't have to come from his hands to be fully appreciated anyhow, so what was she waiting for? For Christmas, she gave herself weekly flowers for the year by setting up a standing order with a florist.
Each week on an appointed day, a bouquet would be delivered and--voilá--she had at long last answered her heart's desire. All it took was a simple phone call and some money to exchange hands. This simple strategy fulfilled her longing to be indulged.
The weekly bounty brought a glow to her heart whenever she spied it or thought about it. She gifted herself in this fashion for a year and then moved on to other ways to warm her heart.
For me, especially in my younger years, the classic treat was going out to dinner. When I was painting the inside of my house, for instance, which at that time was a rather large house, I used to promise myself to take the family out to dinner that night as a way of prodding myself into opening the paint cans anew and clambering up the ladder.
In these fast-food days when many of our meals are restaurant-produced, this wouldn't be a treat at all because it's so commonplace. But since I was in charge of three meals a day, for me it was bliss. I envisioned the meal all day long, ordering imaginary dishes as I squished the roller along.
Usually by the time I finished painting I was too tired to step out, so the promised outing didn't materialize anyway. But, ah, the thrill of the anticipation--of being waited upon, choosing something out of the ordinary, breaking the usual pattern. Sheer indulgence.
Well, actually, it's more the promise of an indulgence, which may be even better. There's something about the anticipation of a treat that often overrides even the delivery itself.
Food and flowers are two areas we can all relate to, but other indulgences aren't far away. Day spas, for one, abound here, so that's another way we can be pampered. Just lie back and let yourself be pummeled into relaxation.
After all, you, along with everyone else in the valley, are avidly involved in an exercise or sports program, and this is simply the flip side of that coin. The only difference is that on this side of the equation, someone else is doing the work.
Feel-good services such as massage, facials and aromatherapy are as handy as the nearest salon. (While we're on the subject of feeling good, I never realized before how close the words salon and saloon are--a single "o" apart. Oh.)
So there we have a broad range of indulgences--bouquets, bon bons and body buffing. All we need is time and money to pamper ourselves as generously as our psyches will allow. Which brings us to a sticking point about indulgences.
Why do we think we have to work for X number of hours or complete a self-imposed project before we can reward ourselves with something fun or frivolous? Something, at any rate, not in the category of work. Answers often given are our agrarian-based economy, the Depression and the Puritan ethic.
But the agrarian economy and the Depression are at least half a century behind us, despite the traces that remain, such as our nine-month school system. And now that we are so multicolored, multicultured and multireligioned, the odds of us having a Puritan background have become remote.
So we need to look further for the reasons that we are reluctant to indulge ourselves. Conditioning, such as childhood habits and training and a results-oriented society--one that applauds energy and drive--are perhaps the answers. Is not sloth considered a most loathsome word in our language?
But while we're sorting out the reasons for resistance, I think I'll slip into the spa for a few moments to re-energize myself enough to head for a daytime movie, a condition so far beyond self-indulgence as to be depraved.
But my favorite indulgence at the moment is casting asparagus at anyone affixed to a cell phone. They can't all be brain surgeons with a crisis at hand. I'm working up a few choice words to add to the asparagus. But then again, this is a family newspaper, as I recall.
Mary Ann Cook is a Los Gatos Weekly-Times columnist.
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Los Gatos, California Since 1881
