Sharon and Jackie enjoying Istanbul, March 2022
While living in Istanbul, I’m learning Turkish. It’s not an easy language to pick up, but it’s a fun, rhythmic, and poetic language to practice. It’s also succinct. A few words say a lot. People appreciate that I try and teach me phrases all the time. A very common parting saying is “kendine iyi bak” or “take care of yourself.”
During a recent conversation with my oncologists here, we were celebrating all things moving in the right direction (numbers, how I feel, scan results). Although taking chemo – even integratively, with nutritional infusions and naturopathic treatments – is never easy, and I miss home, that was a moment for celebration. One of the docs speaks mostly Turkish, but we’ve managed to communicate through translation and the little bit I know. So, I proudly said, “kendine iyi bak” as he was leaving. He turned back with a smile and said he would rather that I “kendine iyi davran” vs “taking care of myself.” I should know that the treatments are working, have patience, and meanwhile, “treat myself well!” I’ve come to realize there is a subtle but important difference while opting to do exactly that, over and over since.
“Taking care” is freighted with responsibility, especially if you are fighting illness. It connotes eating the right foods, getting your exercise, adhering to a sleep schedule, drinking enough water, figuring out how to adjust treatments to optimize effectiveness, etc. These are all important, but not so much fun. The idea of “taking care” is also something of a patriarchal notion, whether you are taking care of someone else or yourself. It contains the idea that there is a right way, out there, and that these rules somehow guide our ability to care for ourselves.
“Treating yourself well” takes all that goes into caring for yourself and makes it more fun. It’s like being a guest in a 5-star hotel where the concierge knows exactly what you enjoy most because you are the concierge and nobody knows you better. It also means being in conversation with your body and soul to realize what feels best at that moment, because we change and grow. It admits that the right answers aren’t always known or clear, especially where the body is concerned and healthcare isn’t always true to its name. It’s more of-the-moment and evolving.
“Treating yourself well” is more empathetic than “taking care.”
So, what’s the difference?
Here’s what “kendine iyi davran” (treat yourself well) has come to mean to me…
Rather than simply eating the right foods, you take the opportunity to dream about what would be the tastiest, healthy thing you can eat and make that. You indulge in dinner out with a wonderful friend like Sharon Sobol Jordan who was visiting for the week, if that’s something that brings you great joy (it does). As my dad used to say, “you gotta eat,” so we might as well make it celebratory. It means you get to know the produce guy well because it’s always worth the walk to get the fresh strawberries. It also means enjoying that glass of organic wine with your meal from time to time (which only has a few carbs…). It doesn’t mean going crazy eating foods that would make you ultimately feel bad, because “treating yourself well” must include empathy for your body now and into the future.
Dinner out at Mikla, on top of the Marmara Hotel
Getting exercise might still include boring reps with those 5-pound weights to build muscle, but it also means that taking the long walk to the park with your friend, sitting on the bench with a coffee, and watching the kids play might be enough of an accomplishment for a particular day. Getting enough sleep may include the luxury of a nap without any guilt during the middle of the day, especially if your main job for this period of time is to heal your body of cancer. It may also mean that you don’t accept zoom meetings that take place at 10 pm your time just because that’s when the famous oncology team that wants to learn more about what you’re doing happens to have their meetings. You are helping them; they can adjust too.
“Treating yourself well” means holding boundaries and protecting your time to heal, work, play and do the things that are nourishing for you. It means staying connected to home, friends, and family in the way and at the times that synchronize with your life and needs. It means sharing what feels right and holding private what’s your business, which other people might find triggering and hard to hold in any helpful way. If you have some options, it means saying yes to work that brings you joy but leaving for later work that is…more like work. That doesn’t mean the work you do is without challenge; it means the juice is worth the squeeze. Having a voice in the world is part of living and growing, so the chance to continue to do that even during a period that typically necessitates more hibernation to heal is oxygen for our souls.
“Treating yourself well” means doing what you have to do (e.g., truly yucky chemo days) but thoroughly enjoying a day exploring Istanbul with a friend and leaving cancer behind. I had a chance to do just that this past Thursday while Sharon was here. We had a magical day that will stay with me and rounds out what could be a full-time slog into a part-time adventure. John and I take the time to do these adventures too because we both love them. It also means indulging in TWO movies on a snowy day because today is a day of rest, or playing games because fun is nourishing too. Sharon took the week mostly off as well, which was good for her soul too. We both have a history of working hard alone and well together, so to just relax and have fun was a conscious choice more than an old habit for both of us. You don’t have to be sick to treat yourself well.
Visting the Cistern of Philoxenos
“Treating yourself well” means letting others take care of you sometimes, when you have to conserve your energy just to survive. I’m not being dramatic. This is the reality of cancer. It means letting someone fan you or get you water during hyperthermia, cooking together, and not feeling guilty if that cooking uses up all of your energy so someone else cleans up. It means relaxing with a healing massage if that’s one of your favorite things to do, even if you are a little embarrassed about the current state of your body vs what you used to be.
“Treating yourself well” means continuing to grow and learn because that feels good and keeps you connected to people, near and far. Learning Turkish is not always fun in the moment, but the return is getting to use it over and over, and connecting with kind people and a rich and storied culture. It feels like singing a song I’ve learned. Treating myself well also means continuing to reflect and share in writing and speaking because I love being in conversation with people about things that matter.
“Treating yourself well” means understanding your body, pushing the boundaries of treatment for difficult health issues, and advocating for yourself, but not perseverating or worrying once decisions have been made. It means finding medical partners you can trust, including them in your care where they best fit, and falling back into their arms, so you can finally rest in some faith that the best choices possible are being made and executed for you at any given time. The energy of fighting a system that isn’t empathic to your body and soul is exhausting; I know this from too much experience. Here in Istanbul, it’s been easier to treat myself well.
“Treating yourself well” means not dwelling on things you might have done differently once you’ve learned that lesson and not being anxious about a future you can’t control. It means giving yourself the grace to know that you did the best you could with what you knew every step of the way, even if you know better now. It’s even congratulating yourself for a difficult job well done, even when it’s always inherently imperfect. It means continuing to do your best but not overthinking, so you can rest in that empathy for your past self, going forward. It means accepting the present for the present that it is, especially after you’ve outlived expert expectations and experienced a time when you couldn’t imagine being out of pain. It means letting go of the fear of dying as much as you can because you already did the hard work of entering hospice and planning for (not just imagining) that transition. It means reaping the benefits of living further beyond that fear than you did before all that arduous work.
These are some of the small but meaningful shifts my Turkish doctor instigated with one small phrase. I wonder what it means for you.
Kendine Iyi Davran!
It’s looks like you are enjoying your good days, Thank you God and to your Turkish group of Doctors. You and your family continue to be in my prayers. 🙏🏻❤️🙏🏻
Thank you, Jenny! 🙏❤️🙏
Lessons learned. Lessons to be internalized. Lessons to apply. Thank you Jackie!
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment, Jason!
Nice to see the Jackie /Sharon duo together again. Appreciate the post and the tips. Love, L
Thank you, Lauren! Much love back to you
Hello from Boston! Loving your insightful and beautifully written observations as always. I am here visiting my daughters, and will take special care to enjoy the privilege of being able to go to our favorite spin studio together – a special kind of “kendine iyi davran.”
I’m also fascinated by the widespread dedication to St. Patrick’s Day here. It’s a minor blip in my mind but in Boston the parade, bar-hopping, and dyed-green beards of the more enthusiastic male participants reminds me of the importance of ritual, tradition and celebration. I wonder if you remember St. Patty’s day from your time here?
I am so glad that you are remembering to “kendine iyi davran.” It’s wonderful to read about your experiences and connect with you virtually. Sending much love – miss you!!
Hello Sam! You being in Boston reminds me of the beautiful Indian lunch we had together there so many years ago. Yes, they really know how to do St. Patrick’s Day! I hope you have a wonderful time with your girls; please give them a hug for me. Miss you too and much love
Jackie,
What a lovely, insightful post! Whenever you write them, I have the chance to reflect in ways I don’t typically take the time for, but always want to! Your million dollar smile with Sharon says it all!
Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, Jennifer!
This is so important Jackie. We are too focused on being productive and delaying gratification that there is a guilt that comes with doing what’s right for you. Thank you for the reminder that it’s ok and glad you are treating yourself well! ❤️
Thanks, Nikki. Really important to practice for moms ❤️
I love reading your posts. It is like Dori has a wise big sister pointing out the hidden turns in the road ahead. Thank you.
We learn from each other. She’s on my mind and in my heart ❤️🙏 So are you, Jeff.
Thank you for yet another important lesson in living each day with grace and love. I shared some of your wisdom about treating yourself well with my family today, and hope we can remember just what that means for ourselves and each other 💖
That’s wonderful, Denise. ❤️
Jackie! What a post! What a post!
We read this out loud and and just loooove your writing and sharing. As we read we were with you in Istanbul- but felt your message resonated here in NEO in our own lives.
Turkish sounds fascinating and wonderful as you describe it. ❤️❤️❤️
You’d love it here, Jane. Such kind people…..also nutrient dense and tasty local veg! I’m so glad to be in touch this way. Miss and love you
What grace you have! Keep treating yourself well, Jackie!
I will! Please do the same yourself ❤️
Lovely post, Jackie, as always. And quite the important reminder for a life well-lived — to continue to strive to kendine iyi davran. Love the pics, and love knowing you are there with caring friends. Love ya’!
Love you too Megan
Hi Jackie, what a wonderful writer you are! I so enjoy your messages. I frequently save them for a time in my day when all is quiet and I can
savor them. Thanks so much for sharing. You are in our prayers each evening and with each picture you post, you look better than the last.
Thank you so much aunt Rita! Much love to all of you
Beautiful and thoughtful. I love the subtleties of language. Isn’t it wonderful when people take the time to point them out to you (and wonderful that you are taking the time and effort to learn Turkish)? One of my professors in college used to ask, “Have you polished your heart today?” I think I will add “Treat yourself well” to the daily practice. Love you.
I love that! “Have you polished your heart today? “That one will stay with me also. Love you too
As a Turkish friend i have to say that; Wouldn’t be a better explanation about this phrase… and as you said; “Kendine iyi davran”
Thank you Jackie
Tesekkur ederim!
Jackie, you nailed it again! Look forward to your next update. Our prayers are with you, Lamar
Thanks so much, Lamar!
You and I seem to share the same phrase to one another. Wow. Just wow. I can empathize with the exhaustion of fighting a system. Love you
Although I wish we both had none of this cancer business in common, I treasure your company. Love you too
Light and Love to you Jackie, I recently viewed your tedx video and read this post. Your Energy is one of Truth, Courage and Authenticity, above the material plane and into the Spirit. The journey of the Soul unfolds on different roads to all , and the lessons to learn are immeasurable. We are One, and to have Empathy is a requirement. Love, Praise and Gratitude.
Peace
What a beautiful note
Thank you 🙏
Amen! Keep writing Jackie. Much love to you!
Love you too, Carrie
I love when your name pops up in my inbox. I read every word and relish your wisdom, courage, empathy and sense of adventure. So grateful for you.
Thanks so much, Lila.
What a wonderful and inspiring post. I will share it with my daughters so they can also reflect on your wisdom. I know from my recent walk with Sharon that she had a wonderful time with you in magical Istanbul. – exploring the wonderful architecture, eating the delicious food and getting to know your local friends, but most importantly being with you again!!
Thank you, Deborah