How to become a radical caretaker

by Rachel Musson

In every school I’ve ever worked in, one of my favourite people has always been the caretaker. I’ve usually got to know them through some sort of accidental blunder I’ve caused – locking myself out a classroom, breaking a computer, setting off a fire alarm, that sort of thing. After that, I’d find myself actively seeking them out for regular chats (and a fairly decent supply of biscuits that seem to always lurk inside those marvellous broom-cupboards!)

The role of the caretaker in any organisation is massive. Keeper of the keys, they are responsible for the smooth running of the entire operation, quietly taking care of the place and the people within – often in the twilight hours where their endless work goes unseen. And far too often overlooked. Whilst I will never say that the caretaker is the most important job in an organisation (for there is essential value in every single role, each playing an equal part in enabling a healthy system to flourish), I will say that this is a role we can all take on – and may even go so far to actively encourage us to do so in this VUCA world.

“Take care..."

This is one of those platitudes we sometimes say at the end of a phone call, or write in a greetings card – often said with meaning but pretty meaningless as an instruction. It has also become synonymous with caution, danger and with staying safe. It was a bit of a universal maxim during the Covid surge, with all of us wanting each other to take care, stay safe, be well. However, at the same time, it often feels something of a fluffy, meaningless sentiment to share.

Yet what if ‘taking care’ was one of the most radical acts we could elicit in these times of crisis?

These times are urgent. Let us slow down. ~ Bayo Akamolafe

Anyone who has taken a course with me over the years will know how much I draw on this West African proverb and use it frequently in our workshops at ThoughtBox.  It speaks to the urgency of this moment in time and the activation we can take in shifting habits, behaviours, outcomes and futures by slowing ourselves down, becoming more present and alert and being more conscious of our actions as we move forward. Taking care necessities slowing down a little, but is a hugely active role at the same time. It welcomes both sense of conscious awareness and focused compassion, welcoming us to be much more alert, present and care-ful through our thoughts, deeds and actions.

Right now, we’re facing endless crises in multiple levels across our societies – sometimes called the polycrises (many intersectional crisis) or the metacrisis (an underlying ‘something’ creating these crises). Many folks are now open to recognise it is a relationship crisis that sits at the heart of our fractured world – and that we can all play an active role in tending to the relationships in our lives to help create healthier ecosystems within and around us.

Caretaker (n): Someone that gives physical or emotional care and support

I actively took on this role about a decade ago, having been dabbling into elements of it for a long time whilst I was teaching. ‘Conscious care’ became my mantra both in life and work, and encouraged me to be much more aware of what I was doing and why. I found it a hugely liberating doctrine to ascribe to my thoughts and actions, as it helped to channel my energy into places where it was actually needed. It also helps me to create a much more conscious and healthy relationship with myself, with others and with the rest of nature.

If you’re happy to take it on, this job comes with a two-word job description: Take care. And it has just three simple areas of focus: Caring for ourselves, caring for others and caring for nature.

When we take care of ourselves, we recognise the need to stop for a moment and pay attention to our needs, in order to best support them with our actions. When we take care of others, we listen in to what is happening for them and do what we can to enable their needs to flourish. When we take care of the planet, we notice where life is struggling and stand up for those without a voice. Whether it’s for our pets, gardens, parklands, riverbanks, forests, local ecosystems or places far away, taking care of the needs of the rest of nature welcomes us all to become more active and aware of the ripple effects of our actions, and the changes we can all make to enable life to flourish.

The best part of this job is that it welcomes us to do as much or as little as we are able – for every act of care, no matter how small, is generative in creating much wider ripple effects of change. Caretaking no longer feels a job for the twilight hours, but a hugely radical and essential role we can all be actively, openly, constantly enacting. Plus, it means you have a ready excuse to fill your cupboards with biscuits.

Previous
Previous

The Rebelliousness of Rest

Next
Next

What have lawnmowers got to do with education?