It is the dead of winter, I reminded myself. We are in the coldest, darkest time of the year. And you’re in Maryland …
Somewhere around mid-January, I found myself wondering why all I wanted to do was rest. Simply working a full-time job and running basic errands felt like plenty. Anything additional quickly felt like I’d overloaded my plate.
Though this might not be the case for everyone, I don’t think late-stage capitalism and the patriarchy are to blame for me wanting to be productive. I don’t think society conditioned me into believing “you must always be working, do something useful, produce something.” I think I was born this way.
Don’t get me wrong. My mental health requires a lot (emphasis on LOT) of down time, but even in those times, I see rest as active, because it is nourishing. Rest is where answers drop in. Rest is where the mind can play and give you the next idea.
And even during times when I’ve been unemployed, I’ve always had projects I’m working on, even if the project is me.
So when I go through periods when I have no desire to create—or do—anything, my natural inclination is to worry and/or wonder why, i.e., what’s wrong? Am I not getting enough B12 again?
How about NOTHING IS WRONG. THIS IS PERFECTLY NATURAL. YOUR SCALES ARE BEING REBALANCED. CHILL.
And when you don’t pump the brakes, when your whole body is telling you to pump the brakes, the Universe will do it for you.
For me, this happened in the form of Covid, I suppose. It was the morning of my root canal that I woke up feeling more sluggish than usual. A CIRS flareup, I figured, from all the rain and ice and snow over the previous week. With about 10 minutes to go before I had to get on the road and drive an hour to the appointment, I forced myself to throw on clothes and get out the door. Had the procedure. Don’t know how I managed to make the drive back. I was so tired, I could barely see straight. Called off work and just lied on the futon for the next two hours. Then I realized I was burning up. I had a fever of 102. The next day, I took a Covid test and realized, OK, so this is not about mold.
For a week, I rested. Did nothing but rest. I didn’t even watch a movie. Didn’t have the energy for it. Didn’t even have the energy to read. I just lied around and did absolutely nothing.
And how do I feel after a week of inescapable rest? AMAZING. I feel like a newborn babe.
I’m here to remind you that sometimes all you need to do is nothing!
It helps that it’s 65 degrees and sunny as I write this on a Friday afternoon in January.
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