The word “self-care” is everywhere. It shows up in marketing campaigns, in influencer captions, on the labels of scented candles and bath salts. It’s used so often that it risks losing meaning — reduced to a lifestyle accessory, something we purchase rather than practice.
But at its core, self-care is not indulgence. It is not a consumer product. It is not even optional.
Self-care is survival. It is the ancient human act of tending the fire that keeps us alive.
Like the Mammoth standing near the warmth of a Paleolithic hearth, we too must keep our inner flames burning through life’s winters. Without care, the fire dwindles. Without the fire, nothing else can endure.
1. Historical Roots of Self-Care
The idea of caring for oneself is as old as humanity itself. Across cultures and centuries, we find recurring patterns: daily rituals, rhythms of rest, practices of balance. These were not luxuries, they were embedded into life as a necessity.
The Stoics understood self-care as a discipline. Epictetus urged his students to practice reflection and restraint, to live in alignment with nature and reason. For the Stoics, care was not indulgence, but preparation for the difficulties of life.
Ancient Greeks spoke of eudaimonia - human flourishing, as a state cultivated through balance of diet, exercise, and reflective philosophy (Nussbaum, 1994).
Foucault later described the “care of the self” (epimeleia heautou) as a lifelong ethical practice, a way of relating to the self that enabled authentic relationship with others (Foucault, 1988).
Eastern traditions emphasized harmony and balance: Ayurveda and yoga in India, Taoist practices in China, Zen in Japan - all seeking to align body, mind, and spirit.
Indigenous traditions worldwide understood care not as an individual pursuit, but as a relational one: caring for self was inseparable from caring for land, ancestors, and community.
Medieval monasticism wove daily rhythms of prayer, work, and silence. Care was integrated into the very structure of life - not as self-indulgence, but as devotion and sustainability (Leclercq, 1982).
Contrast this with the modern industrial era, in which human beings are seen less as organic creatures in need of balance, and more as machines whose value lies in productivity. In this frame, self-care becomes “recovery”, patching ourselves up after breakdown rather than the steady maintenance of wholeness.
2. The Science of Self-Care
Modern psychology and neuroscience confirm what these traditions intuited: neglect of care erodes both mind and body.
Stress physiology. Chronic stress activates the hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis, flooding the body with cortisol. Over time, this “allostatic load” (McEwen, 1998) damages cardiovascular health, weakens the immune system, and impairs cognition.
Sleep. Research from the National Sleep Foundation shows insufficient sleep increases risks of depression, obesity, and reduced cognitive performance (Hirshkowitz et al., 2015).
Movement. Regular exercise reduces anxiety and depression, improves executive functioning, and supports neuroplasticity.
Nutrition and hydration. Diet directly influences brain health; hydration affects cognition and mood.
Social connection. Loneliness is now recognised as a public health crisis, with effects on mortality comparable to smoking (Cacioppo & Cacioppo, 2018). Social support buffers against stress and fosters resilience (Cohen & Wills, 1985).
Self-compassion. Kristin Neff’s (2003) research shows that treating ourselves with kindness rather than harsh self-criticism reduces anxiety and depression, while improving resilience.
Together, these findings affirm a simple truth: without care, we decline. With care, we flourish.
3. The Many Dimensions of Care
Self-care is often portrayed narrowly as pampering, or as exercise. But in reality, it is multi-dimensional.
Physical Care: Sleep, movement, food, hydration.
Emotional Care: Allowing space for feelings, practicing self-compassion, seeking support.
Social Care: Nurturing relationships, setting healthy boundaries, asking for help.
Spiritual Care: Ritual, reflection, connection to something greater than the self—whether nature, faith, or meaning.
Environmental Care: Attending to the spaces we inhabit, both physical and digital.
Picture the hearth fire again: each of these dimensions is a flame. Let one burn out for too long, and the fire weakens. Neglect them all, and the Mammoth is left standing in the cold.
4. Barriers to the Hearth
If self-care is so vital, why do so many of us struggle to practice it?
Guilt. Many of us carry the belief that resting is laziness, that tending to ourselves means neglecting others.
Culture. We live in productivity-driven societies that equate busyness with worth. Hustle culture celebrates exhaustion as a badge of honour.
Circumstance. Inequality, poverty, and caregiving burdens create structural barriers. For many, rest is a privilege, not a choice.
Consider Anna, a working parent. She responds to emails at midnight, grabs fast food between meetings, misses her children’s bedtime. She knows she “should” take care of herself, but where would she find the time? For her, like for so many, self-care has been framed as one more item on an already impossible to-do list.
The Mammoth, however, reminds us: survival requires fire. If Anna does not tend her hearth, the flame dims - not just for her, but for everyone who depends on her warmth.
5. A Person-Centered Reframing
Carl Rogers’ person-centered psychology offers a radical reframing of self-care.
Congruence. True self-care means alignment between our real, lived needs and our actions. It is not about adopting someone else’s wellness routine, but listening inwardly to what our organism actually requires (Rogers, 1959).
Unconditional Positive Regard. We are called to extend to ourselves the same acceptance we would offer a friend. Self-care begins not with doing, but with a posture of non-judgment.
Empathy. To care for ourselves is to listen deeply to our own inner experience, with curiosity rather than criticism.
As Mick Cooper (2020) notes, relational depth with others is only possible when we are resourced within ourselves. To care inwardly is not selfish, it is the necessary foundation for authentic encounters with others.
6. The Commodification of Care
One of the great confusions of our age is the commodification of self-care. The wellness industry sells us products and experiences: spa days, yoga pants, apps, supplements. While some of these may help, the deeper danger is that care becomes tied to consumption.
If self-care requires money, time, and aesthetic perfection, it becomes inaccessible for most people. Worse, it becomes performative! A way of proving worthiness in social encounters rather than a way of quietly tending the hearth within.
The Mammoth does not need scented candles or luxury retreats. It needs warmth. And warmth comes from simple logs, not extravagant displays.
7. A Practical Framework: The Three Logs
How, then, do we keep our fire alive?
Imagine that each day, your hearth requires three logs:
Body Log: One act that sustains the physical self (a nourishing meal, stretching, a full night’s sleep).
Mind Log: One act that nourishes the mind (reading, reflection, journaling, focused rest).
Heart Log: One act that connects you emotionally (calling a friend, stepping into nature, offering compassion to yourself).
This framework does not demand hours or expense. It simply asks us to notice: have I fed my body, my mind, and my heart today?
Behavioural science shows that small, repeated practices compound over time. Neuroplasticity ensures that every act of care strengthens the pathways of resilience (Davidson & McEwen, 2012).
8. Reflection and Integration
Self-care is not escape. It is presence. It is less about indulgence and more about maintenance. Less about “me first” and more about “me, so that I can be with you.”
The Mammoth at the hearth is not indulging - it is surviving. It knows that without fire, there can be no journey forward.
So ask yourself:
What keeps my fire alive?
Which log am I most neglecting?
How can I simplify care, rather than complicate it?
Self-care is not a trend. It is an ancient human necessity. It is the fire we must keep alive, not only for ourselves, but for everyone who gathers around our warmth.
References (Harvard)
Cacioppo, J.T. & Cacioppo, S. (2018) Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection. New York: W.W. Norton.
Cohen, S. & Wills, T.A. (1985) ‘Stress, social support, and the buffering hypothesis’, Psychological Bulletin, 98(2), pp. 310–357.
Cooper, M. (2020) Integrating Counselling and Psychotherapy: Directionality, Synergy, and Social Change. London: Sage.
Davidson, R.J. & McEwen, B.S. (2012) ‘Social influences on neuroplasticity: Stress and interventions to promote well-being’, Nature Neuroscience, 15(5), pp. 689–695.
Evans, G.W. (2003) ‘The built environment and mental health’, Journal of Urban Health, 80(4), pp. 536–555.
Foucault, M. (1988) The Care of the Self: The History of Sexuality, Vol. 3. New York: Pantheon.
Hirshkowitz, M. et al. (2015) ‘National Sleep Foundation’s sleep time duration recommendations’, Sleep Health, 1(1), pp. 40–43.
Leclercq, J. (1982) The Love of Learning and the Desire for God. New York: Fordham University Press.
McEwen, B.S. (1998) ‘Protective and damaging effects of stress mediators’, New England Journal of Medicine, 338(3), pp. 171–179.
Neff, K.D. (2003) ‘The development and validation of a scale to measure self-compassion’, Self and Identity, 2(3), pp. 223–250.
Nussbaum, M.C. (1994) The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Rogers, C.R. (1959) ‘A theory of therapy, personality and interpersonal relationships as developed in the client-centered framework’, in Koch, S. (ed.) Psychology: A Study of a Science. Vol. 3. New York: McGraw-Hill.