“Self-care” is a phrase we hear constantly. Sometimes it feels overused, maybe even reduced to a quick fix — a spa day, a treat, a little break from the grind. Those things are valuable, but what if self-care meant something deeper? What if it pointed us toward a way of living that supports not just the individual, but the collective?

A Four-Part Understanding of Well-Being

Across cultures and histories, we can find teachings that speak to a holistic vision of wellness. From Native American elders on Turtle Island, I’ve learned of well-being as rooted in four interconnected aspects: emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical.

As I’ve explored further, I’ve noticed how similar wisdom shows up around the world. In pre-medieval Europe, Hildegard of Bingen spoke of balance across these same dimensions. In Latvian cosmology, the sacred tree (Austras Koks) mirrors these four directions. Chinese medicine, too, maps well-being into elements, tastes, and cycles of nature.

The idea is simple, but profound: wellness isn’t linear. It’s a circle. It moves with the rhythms of the seasons, the stages of life, the directions of the compass.

More Than Individual Balance

These quadrants remind us that well-being is not meant to be compartmentalized. Physical labor can count as physical wellness; emotional wellness may look like being honest with where you are rather than forcing positivity. Spiritual wellness doesn’t need to happen in a place of worship — it can be found in making human interactions sacred, or in noticing the life that surrounds you in nature.

From a matriarchal perspective, I’d also add sexual wellness into this picture. Not necessarily as a separate category, but as an expression of balance. When we feel safe, creative, and able to express ourselves, sexual well-being naturally flourishes.

My Own Journey

For much of my life, I struggled with spiritual wellness. I called myself an atheist well into my 40s, and while that worked for a time, it also left me without a sense of wonder or interconnectedness. Slowly, I opened to the possibility of something larger. Today, I call it Spirit, or Mother Earth, or simply Nature. Others may use different names: God, Allah, serendipity. What matters is less the name, and more the way it roots us in connection.

On the emotional side, I’ve learned the value of tenderness with myself. Instead of trying to push past my feelings or “fix” them, I practice honoring where I am. Paradoxically, that gentleness often creates more space for healing.

A Collective Practice

One of the most important parts of these teachings is this: we’re not meant to practice them alone. The medicine wheel, the sacred tree, the compass of well-being — they all remind us that health is collective. We find balance in relationship, in community, in shared support.

If you’d like to explore this practice for yourself, try this simple exercise:

• Draw a circle.

• Divide it into four quadrants.

• Label them: emotional, mental, spiritual, physical.

• In each section, write what you’re already doing to nurture yourself, and where you might bring in more attention.
  

It doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t have to be separate from your daily life. Sometimes it’s about recognizing what’s already there — and honoring it.

The Invitation

These teachings have been offered to me by elders, wisdom-keepers, and the threads of my own journey. I share them in the hope that they spark something for you — an invitation to reimagine self-care not as an isolated act, but as a living, collective practice of well-being.