"What do I do?" Each of them asked in one way or another, "How do I get through this?"
"Rest."
"But what about my dog, my son, my neighbor, my mother, my job?"
"Rest."
"But who will shop, clean, drive, fix, feed, launder?"
"Not you."
"But, but, but..."
Let me tell you something I have had to learn the hard way - from the school of hard knocks, literally. If you do not listen to your body when it starts to shut down, it will do its best to support you. Without heeding smaller signals of weariness, aches, and stress, your body will simply begin to divert resources from other systems to sustain your level of activity. Again, and again, and again it will pull strength from one area or another to support you. You may continue this way for days, weeks, months, and even years, but at some point your body will not hold you. It will not have any more reserves to draw from. So it will begin to shut down. Illness, extreme fatigue, chronic pain, stomach problems, insomnia... all can arise from this lack of listening.
"Rest."
"I can't take a spa day."
"Moms never get a day off."
"My house will be a wreck."
We live in a day and age where we see, literally, the best of one another. Every single day you can scroll and scroll and scroll and only see what people want you to see. What kind of pressure do we put on ourselves from that intake? It's not real. It's not real life. We simply cannot do all that we see. Pinterest has pillaged reality. I'm writing this with laundry waiting to be changed, toilets that haven't been scrubbed in two weeks, a dining room table full of work documents to be filed and dinner barely thrown in a rice cooker for hungry teenagers and a tired husband who will walk in the door any minute starving. Did I post any pictures of that on social media? Maybe I should - be the lady who shows the real life story of our unrealistic expectations today? Dirty laundry, cluttered garage, peeling deck. Glamourous. Not only are we supposed to live productive lives with world-changing social initiatives and successful careers, but we now have to document our successes with hashtags and carefully staged selfies. It's suffocating.
I used to be able to teach a yoga class, go home, make dinner and spend time with my family. No marketing strategies, no flyers, no tracking of likes or views or hits. But now? Now everything is fodder for commentary. Everything is a potential marketing strategy or business plan. Every action requires documentation, validation, expectation. It's exhausting.
So how do we keep up?
We don't. We can't.
Four head injuries, a broken wrist, a chronic health disorder, and a husband's massive injury, surgery and recovery have taught me that.
You must learn to slow down, to stop, or your body will reach the point where it will do it for you.
If you push and push, you will reach a point where your body will not hold you.
"How? Is it possible to really stop? Really rest?"
"Yes."
"How do I do it?" you ask.
It doesn't take any money. You don't need a spa day, a pedicure or a luxury vacation. It doesn't require a shopping spree or Instagram or even a cell phone.
You go outside. Alone. In the quiet. Stand in nature and listen. Listen to the sounds around you - wind, rain, birds. What do you hear? Close your eyes or just look at the earth. Breathe in. The trees are literally supporting you - reaching down into the quiet earth for nutrients to produce the oxygen you need every moment of every day. Breathe out - release the carbon dioxide you don't need and give it back to the trees. Feel the cycle of nature, this system of support with you, sustaining you.
You might feel waves begin to emerge, perhaps ripples or tides you have worked hard to suppress or maintain. The body may begin to tremble, to weep, to sigh, to slumber - all in an effort to find equilibrium once again.
Keep breathing. Feel your feet connected to the earth. Wiggle your toes. Breathe again.
Place one hand over the center of your chest. See if you can feel the quiet rhythm of your beating heart. If you can't, don't worry, it's there, supporting you. Pumping in and out, in and out, beat after beat after beat. Giving new life and energy each day. What is it saying to you in this moment?
What is it calling for? More rest? Nourishment? Joy? Connection? Exploration? Simplicity? Adventure? What would help your heart be heard? Music? Journaling? Talking with a friend? Listening more? Staying here? Walking around? Moving? Water? Solace?
Maybe you don't know. Maybe the voice has been suppressed, redressed, rebuffed for so long that the sound of your heart feels silent. That's okay too. Keep listening. Stay connected. Stay here for a few more breaths.
If you've heard the quiet whispers of your heart song, begin singing along. If not, take a break. Set an intention to come back and try again another time.
This process of holding begins with you, taking time to listen, to nurture your own heart with quiet awareness.
Beginning again, and again, and again to listen, to learn, what will hold you?
Will it be you after all?
