Okay, firstly this post is not about DIY pedicures. And it’s not about saving money. I’m not interested in being a beauty guru (and if you know me, I’m sure you’re having a good laugh at that), or advocating that you chuck in your trip to the spa (because, again, if you know me, you’ll know how close I am to being an intervention-needing-spa-junkie; I start twitching just by thinking of the white robe and slippers). What I am interested in is A Creative Life–as the subtitle of this website suggests.
So, this weekend I did something I’ve never done before. I went out and bought a raft of DIY foot care/pedicure items and made my own spa ritual. I actually love a professional pedicure. LOVE it! I came to them quite late in life, only having my first one when I was pregnant as an alternative to massage because I couldn’t lie on my belly any more. It’s a fantastic feeling to know you can step out with lovely feet and toes and pretty colour and no one will judge you for the alternative un-treated feet. I came to see that I had a bit of a hidden shame about my feet (for many reasons, including decades of foot and ankle issues, surgeries and spending the whole of my twenties stuck in sneakers with full length orthotics when everyone else was in pretty dresses and strappy shoes… but that’s another post in itself).
Knowing I have presentable, lovely feet gives me an unconscious edge, a weird sort of confidence that it doesn’t matter what anyone asks me to do–jump out of a plane, appear on David Letterman, eat uncooked seaweed–because I can do it right now and not have to worry about cleaning myself up first. Bring it on, world! (I told you; it’s weird.)
But pedicures come with a price tag and also a need for free time without a toddler attached, both of which are not necessarily always reliable aspects of any one’s life, including mine.
Saturday came and my husband was out and I decided that, for once, instead of rushing to the laptop to whip out some words while my toddler was sleeping, I might actually just take some time to be. So before the toddler nodded off, I dragged him around the grocery store and chemist (to his fabulous delight, as I’m sure you can imagine) and spent the same amount of money I would normally on a pedicure and self-nurturing goodies. Then I put him to bed, made myself a bubble bath (also a luxury, as we’re on rainwater tanks) and a cup of my favourite chai and away I went.
And you know what? It was really great. And not just because I managed to smooth those feet. (Yes, I am now of a certain age when I actually own a ‘corn plane’.) But because I was taking control of my own nurturing. I was saying, you know what, I deserve some time off. I deserve to feel good. Deadlines, shmedlines, I want some silence and alone time just with me. To recharge. To regenerate. To give back to myself the energy I need to face life again, anew, afresh, and ready to take on the world with my pretty feet. Because something I’ve come to understand over my life is that creativity and nurturing are the same thing; one feeds the other. Heck, just doing something different for once is an act of creativity. The infinite possibilities of a creative life.