Several months ago, after being away for nearly three weeks, I came home utterly drained. The next morning, I woke up with a tiredness that went deeper than normal fatigue—the kind that sinks into your bones and whispers, “You’ve been running too long.”
I turned to Teresa and admitted, “I’m just so tired. I don’t have it in me to ramp up today.”
She, wiser than me in these things, said, “Why don’t you just pause? Take a little time to care for yourself.” A gentle reset. A chance to breathe, recover, and reset.
So I gave it a try. I made myself a turmeric latte—bright gold, spicy, slightly earthy, comfort in a cup. Then I ran a hot bath and—yeah, this will sound a little odd—but I also brought in a cup of ice cubes. I have this quirky little ritual where I love to feel the contrast between the cold on my face and the heat of the water.
Teresa, never one to miss an opportunity, added lavender salts. The steam filled the room. And just as I was about to step into the water, I looked out the window. There, in our yard, stood a doe with her fawns—silent, still, breathtaking.
Latte in hand. Lavender in the air. Ice melting on my skin. Deer outside the window. It felt almost sacred.
And I realized something: these kinds of moments don’t just happen. They’re revealed when we slow down. But if we’re always rushing, always producing, always pushing forward, we miss them entirely.

The Real Point of Self-Care
I’ve never been very good at slowing down. I grew up in a home where worth was tied to productivity—how much you accomplished, how busy you stayed, how hard you worked. Even now, when I pause, there’s a little voice in my head whispering, “You’re being lazy.” That script runs deep.
Then there’s the version of self-care our culture sells—candles, face masks, spa days, yoga retreats—the kinds of things that make great Instagram posts. And honestly, sometimes those things are wonderful. A bubble bath or a weekend away can be just what we need.
But here’s the difference: it’s not about what you do, it’s about what it does for you. Does it just give a fleeting hit of comfort, or does it actually restore you so you can be fully present again—for yourself, and for the people who matter most?
Real self-care isn’t laziness or indulgence. It’s responsibility. It’s how we sustain our well-being so we can keep showing up for others. Like the oxygen mask on an airplane: you put yours on first, not because you’re selfish, but because you can’t help anyone else if you pass out.
So What Does Self-Care Actually Look Like?
At its best, self-care is not self-centered. It’s not “me for me.” It’s me for us.
Ollie Aplin, founder of MindJournal, puts it well:
“Self-care is about being aware of your needs and making sure you’re doing what you can to be the best version of yourself, for you and those around you.”
That means self-care isn’t a single act of rest or indulgence. It’s a pattern of habits that touch every part of life—physical, emotional, spiritual, professional, financial, and relational.
It shows up in how we sleep, eat, and move. It’s in how we process emotions and whether we have safe places to talk or reflect. It’s found in practices that quiet the mind and lift our perspective—whether through prayer, meditation, or simply a walk in nature. It even extends to the boundaries we set at work, the way we manage our finances to reduce stress, and the attention we give to nurturing the relationships that give us life.
When one part of our well-being is neglected, the others eventually feel the strain. Real self-care is about keeping the entire system in balance, so we can continue to show up well—as our whole selves.
Why We Resist It
And yet, most of us resist. Some of us grew up in productivity cultures where slowing down looks like laziness.
For others—especially men—there’s stigma. Tony Porter calls it the “man box,” the unwritten rules of toughness and self-reliance. The cost is high: men live shorter lives, seek less help, and carry higher risks of preventable disease and suicide.
Still others confuse indulgence with self-care. We mistake comfort for restoration, not realizing that indulging ourselves is very different from replenishing ourselves.
The Benefits
The science is clear: people who practice self-care are more confident, more productive, and happier overall. They’re less likely to face heart disease, stroke, or cancer.
And just as importantly, they show up with greater empathy, patience, and relational capacity.
In other words: when you care for yourself, you expand your capacity to love others.
Three Simple Ways to Begin
Check your motive.
Ask: Am I restoring myself—or just distracting myself? Restoration reconnects me to love—for myself, and for others. Distraction disconnects me from both.Keep it small.
A walk outside. A healthy meal. Ten minutes of stillness. The best self-care is usually simple.Link it outward.
When you finish, ask: Who will benefit from me being more rested, focused, or present? That one question reframes self-care as an act of love.
The Closing Reminder
Self-care isn’t the destination. It’s the fuel stop. It’s what allows us to bring energy, clarity, and compassion to the people and work that matter most.
When we care well for ourselves, we multiply our capacity to care well for others.
Until next week,
Jonathan Penner | Co-Founder & Executive Director of LifeApp


Resources To Dig Deeper

Book
Set Boundaries, Find Peace
What if the key to real self-care isn’t bubble baths or spa days, but boundaries? In this conversation with Scott Miller, therapist and bestselling author Nedra Tawwab explains why boundaries aren’t about shutting people out, but about protecting your energy so you can keep showing up with clarity, compassion, and strength. A powerful companion to rethinking what self-care really means.
-Nedra Tawwab

Music
Pressure
Pressure by Her Brothers Written and performed by brothers Gabe, Levi, and Josh Penner, “Breath In” is a simple meditation in lyric form. With just a few lines, it slows us down and reminds us that sometimes the most restorative self-care is as close as our own breath—welcoming the moment in, letting go of what we’ve carried, and noticing the beauty in something as ordinary, and sacred, as breathing.
Breath in — welcome to you.
Breath out — release what you found.
Breath in — the moment begins.
Breath out — what a beautiful sound.
-Her Brothers (2:32)