Field Note #10
The Integrity of Caring for Ourselves
October 22, 2026 | 6:55 AM
The fireplace is warming the house this morning.
Greg left a few moments ago for a guided fly fishing trip. Before he headed out into the cold, we packed his Yeti thermos with hot water for tea, something warm for him and his clients to enjoy while floating on the river. In a few minutes, I'll wake August for school. But for now, the house is quiet, the fire is going, and I've had a little time to myself.
I've been trying to make more room for these early mornings. A little dowsing, journaling, and time to check in with myself before the rest of the day begins. I often use charts with my pendulum as a springboard for reflection and journal prompts. This morning, I was working with a gratitude chart, and of all the things I could have landed on, it was integrity.
My own integrity.
I sat with that for a moment. I write about gratitude often. I'm thankful for my family, our home, my work, the river, and the people who come into my life. I can fill pages with things I'm grateful for, but when was the last time I wrote about being grateful for myself?
Not for something I've accomplished or something I've provided for someone else, but simply for who I am. For showing up with honesty, caring deeply about the work I do, putting myself out there even when it makes me vulnerable, and continuing to learn, change, and grow.
Why is that so difficult to acknowledge? I wonder if other people struggle with this, too.
The Last Person We Care For
I think most mothers will understand what I mean when I say we have a way of putting ourselves last. We make sure everyone is fed, dressed, cared for, and where they need to be. We remember appointments, pack lunches, keep the household moving, and somehow squeeze our own needs into whatever time is left.
I did the same thing for years in my work. When I owned my larger spa, I spent my days caring for clients and employees. I loved the work, but somewhere along the way, I neglected myself. It's a funny thing, being in the business of caring for people while forgetting to care for yourself.
Even now, working as a holistic esthetician, I find myself reminding clients to slow down, massage their faces, nourish their skin, and make time for themselves. Then I get home and realize I haven't done those things for myself.
At 43, I'm beginning to understand just how much those years of neglect can add up. Maybe wisdom isn't always about learning something new. Sometimes it's finally listening to the things we've been telling everyone else for years.
And maybe integrity means treating ourselves with the same care and respect we so willingly offer others.
A Season Made for Slowing Down
The seasons seem to have shifted overnight. Not long ago, we were sleeping with the doors open, waiting for a breeze to cool the house. Now I'm sitting beside the fireplace, listening to the quiet of a cold October morning. The days are shorter, darkness stays with us longer, and the garden is slowing down. So am I.
I've always loved this part of the year. Spring and summer are full of movement for me. I'm outside fishing, gardening, hiking, working, and finding every excuse to stay busy. By fall, my body is ready for a different rhythm. I sleep a little longer, cook more, and spend more evenings at home.
I've been thinking about how much integrity there is in those simple things. A roast slowly cooking in the oven, a pot of stew simmering all afternoon, or apple crisp made from the season's apples, filling the house with cinnamon and butter. There's a certain kind of love that goes into preparing food for people.
My mother has done this for our family for as long as I can remember. She has always had a passion for cooking and baking, and at 43 years old, I'm only now beginning to fully appreciate the care she's put into feeding us all these years. It isn't just that her food tastes good. It's the attention she gives it, the time, the intention, and the love.
She makes food with integrity.
The other day, I was hurriedly shaping burger patties for dinner, just trying to get it done. I was distracted, rushing through the task, and already thinking about the next thing I needed to do. Greg noticed and commented that I was throwing them together without the same care I usually put into cooking.
He was right. We started talking about the intention we put into preparing good food and how much of a difference it can make. As we talked, he took over shaping the burgers while I moved on to preparing the side dish. It was such a simple moment in our kitchen, but it got me thinking about how often we rush through the little things without giving them much thought.
It made me think about my mother and the countless meals she's prepared for our family. How many times had I eaten something she made without really considering the time and care that went into it?
But I've also been wondering about the other side of that. Does everything we do need to be done with our full attention? Surely there's room for an ordinary dinner thrown together after a long day.
Maybe integrity isn't about doing everything perfectly, but recognizing when we're acting out of love and when we're simply running ourselves into the ground.
Perhaps it lives in both places: the care we put into the things we do and the grace we give ourselves when we don't have much left to give.
Learning to Move With Change
Earlier this week, I taught my first seasonal skincare class at Bliss, Rooted in Fall. We talked about how the changing seasons affect our skin and bodies, and how our daily rituals might need to change along with them. I've been thinking about that conversation ever since.
Change is one of the few things we can count on in life. The weather changes, the rivers rise and fall, our bodies age, and our families grow. The things that worked for us five years ago may not be what we need today. Yet we spend so much energy trying to keep everything the same.
In my skincare practice, I see how the seasons show up on our faces. Skin that was comfortable all summer suddenly feels tight and dry. The air cools, indoor heat comes on, and our skin needs a little more support. Sometimes that means changing our products. Sometimes it's slowing down long enough to give ourselves a facial massage, use a gua sha tool, or book a massage with someone who can help us relax.
I've always been fascinated by the lymphatic system and the way gentle movement supports the body's natural circulation and fluid balance. Our bodies are constantly working to maintain balance, whether we're paying attention or not.
But I think there's an emotional side to movement, too. When I feel stuck, getting outside often helps me. Walking through the woods, standing in a river, moving my body, or simply changing my routine can give me a different perspective.
I know that the darker months can be emotionally difficult for some people. Some say seasonal depression is real, but I think its deeper than that. I do believe there is value in paying attention to what our bodies and minds are asking of us.
Sometimes we need movement. Sometimes we need rest. Sometimes we need to sit with ourselves in silence. And sometimes we need to recognize that the way we've been doing things isn't serving us anymore.
Perhaps integrity is being willing to make those changes, even when they're uncomfortable.
Gratitude for Who We Are
I keep coming back to that word from my morning dowsing session: integrity.
I used to think of integrity mostly as honesty, doing the right thing, keeping your word, and being someone others can trust. I still believe all of that, but this morning I'm wondering if integrity also means being true to ourselves. Honoring our own needs, recognizing the effort we put into our lives, and allowing ourselves to be proud of the people we're becoming.
We can be grateful for the warmth of a fireplace on a cold morning, for a husband heading out to share his love of fishing with others, and for a child sleeping peacefully before the rush of the school day. We can be thankful for a mother who has spent a lifetime showing love through the food she prepares and for a body that carries us through adventures, work, motherhood, and all the changing seasons of life.
But can we also be grateful for the person who makes our own part in that life possible?
Ourselves?
I don't think I've ever sat down with my journal and written, I'm grateful for my integrity. I'm grateful that I care deeply. I'm grateful that I try to do things with honesty and passion.
It almost feels uncomfortable to write. But why? We spend so much of our lives recognizing the good in other people. Maybe this season is an invitation to recognize some of that good in ourselves.
The fire is still burning, and it's nearly time to wake August. The quiet part of my morning is coming to an end, and soon the house will be filled with the familiar rush of getting ready for school.
But I'm taking one thought with me today.
Caring for ourselves isn't separate from living with integrity. It's part of it.
And maybe gratitude shouldn't always begin with everything around us. Sometimes, it can begin within.
Today’s Notes
Outside: 40° and a cold October morning.
Time: 6:55 AM, just before waking August for school.
Warming: The fireplace, a hot cup of tea, and Greg's thermos packed for the river.
Morning Ritual: Dowsing, pendulum charts, journaling, and a little quiet before the day begins.
Reflecting On: Gratitude for my own integrity.
Noticed: How easily I recognize the care others give, and how rarely I acknowledge my own.
Learning: That slowing down, changing with the seasons, and caring for myself are all ways of honoring who I am.
Question I'm Taking Home: When was the last time I thanked myself for the person I am, rather than the things I do?
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