Dormancy

We humans have lost the wisdom of genuinely resting and relaxing. We worry too much. We don’t allow our bodies to heal, and we don’t allow our minds and hearts to heal. – Thich Nhat Hanh

How often do you give yourself the gift of true rest? How easily do you call it “quitting” time, allowing your body and mind to retreat into a slower, more gentle pace? We live in a culture where success is often equated with just how productive we are; how much we are able to accomplish in a day, a week, a month, a year. Status is associated with output. Yet, for many, this has led to feelings of depletion – a sort of “living for the weekend” mentality. Do you really want to be living for the “someday” though? The someday when all that we do, have done, is finally enough? 

Rest doesn’t come easily to me. Even though I have less demands on my time right now, I continue to feel agitated and fidgety. This manifests in a physical sensation of tightness, as though I am perpetually clenching – both in mind and body. I am not sure how to just let go, how to soften and find repose. 

As I look back on the last 15 years of my life, I see that it has been constant forward momentum. There has been little time and space devoted to stillness and leisure. As Thich Nhat Hanh eloquently put it, little time allowed for my body, my mind and my heart to really heal. 

High-school was a blur of multiple sports, pursuit of academic achievement, and social engagements. College was much of the same, with the added demands of being a collegiate athlete. Before my graduation was even finalized, I moved to Phoenix, Arizona to begin my time with Teach for America. I taught full time, while working towards a Master’s in Elementary Education and participating in the intense demands of the TFA program. As I was nearing the end of my TFA commitment, I received a Stage III diagnosis of Colon Cancer. I started chemotherapy while simultaneously beginning a position as a first grade teacher with a new school. Following my battle with cancer, I continued to teach for the next 5 years, during which I also became a certified yoga instructor for both adults and children. I am proud of all that I have accomplished and the effort I have poured into the creation of my life. Still, if I am being honest with myself, I am tired and feeling a bit lost. 

Now, my external world has slowed down, but inside I am spinning. Do you know the feeling? I am overwhelmed by all the possibilities of what can be done with my free time, yet I have this deep desire to do absolutely nothing. I am tired from the mental weight of the to-do’s I carry in my head, and on the other hand I have a deep addiction to movement and busyness. I am stuck. I am not sure how to slow my inner world down, how to take a big enough inhale so as to truly relax with the exhale. 

I recently read a quote from Dr. Joe Dispenza that touched upon this phenomena, helping me to realize that this struggle is not unique to me, “If we sit long enough without doing anything, we begin to feel something. That something is who we really are.” The emotions that pour forth from this “real” self can be all encompassing. She is tired, she is craving stillness, she wants a blank page upon which to write, to discover a new reality in which to live. I want to sit with her, to listen to her, but I am afraid that if I sit still for too long then I won’t move again. 

Where does this fear of stillness come from? Where is the origin? I have placed much of my self worth in the “doing” of life. “Doing” allows me to avoid the insecurities, the feelings of inadequacy and anxiety that are lurking just below the exterior. Through achievement – be it in sports, academics, professional endeavors – I have earned praise from family, friends and even strangers. This praise has helped me to quiet the self doubt, to tame the demons that whisper, “you are not enough”. If I stop, then the praise stops. And what happens when the praise stops? What happens when others no longer look at your life and marvel? 

Finding oneself while seeking the approval of others means murder of self. – Mandy Hale. 

Building my worth on the praise of others, has led to a shaky foundation. 

Forward momentum is what I know, and it has served me. Through pushing on when tired, I achieved as a runner and as a student. Not giving up and keeping my eye on what lies ahead resulted in my completion of both a bachelor’s and a master’s before the age of 25. With grit and dedication to my own survival, I beat cancer. However, I am tired. Forward momentum led to a great deal of external success, but internally  I feel unsure of who I am, what I want, why I am here. Working from the outside in, seeking external validation in hopes to develop inner acceptance, hasn’t seemed to work. 

Doing more, constantly pushing on to what is next, created a chasm of self. So now, I find myself peeling back layers to find what truth exists within. Through stillness, through quiet, time spent outside just “being”, I am unlearning old patterns and am being reintroduced to myself, open to building the life I most desire. Though it is one of the hardest things for me to do, I am going inward and honoring that voice of feminine energy that encourages me to leave the day blank, a white page upon which I write only that which nourishes me. If we don’t give ourselves this now, then when? Someday? What if we don’t get “someday”? I know how hard it is to slow down, to lighten up, to simply DO less. For if we do, will we still exist and take up space in this world? The answer to that is yes. Just like the natural world, we require periods of dormancy so as to bloom again when ready. It is a cyclical process. This hibernation of sorts is the only real remedy that will allow me to develop into the woman I want to be, the life I want to exist within. The only way I can hear that “real self”. The way back to me.