It's crazy how much I needed to read this. I'm betting a lot of you do, as well.
This forced isolation and slow down has brought up a lot of interesting realizations. I've always known I get irritated when I am too busy, but I don’t think I truly realized just HOW busy I keep myself. The reason adding a few extra things to my list overloads me is because there are always so many plates in the air to begin with. Anxiety likes to keep your busy because then there is less of a chance that you will miss something.
Please remember, if you miss something, or are not hyper-vigilant, you have the tools available to fix the situation. You’re not just trusting the Universe here; you are trusting yourself.
Being home for the past two weeks there has always been more than enough to keep me up and moving. I have found myself confused by the memes about staying in and watching Netflix, or vegging on the couch. I am grateful, in many ways, for the things that keep me busy. I have also come to the realization that I am my own worst enemy when it comes to being present. It is a struggle for me to sit on the swings and just breathe in the sounds of my children playing. Joining them for a game or a bike ride is carefully timed out in my head, so I return when dinner needs to be started, the laundry needs to be switched over, or with enough time to get the kids out of the tub and dressed before my partner gets home. In the shower I am running through my to-do list, planning my garden, thinking about meals, lesson planning, and making sure I haven’t forgotten to check in on anyone. At nighttime cuddles I am checking work emails, and scheduling posts. My family asks literally none of this of me.
During the few days of isolation my partner and I started learning Icelandic, I made a pile of books to try to get through, meal plans, updated my Pinterest boards with lessons, art projects, and activities, got a documentary subscription, ordered supplies to work on my products, saved every online tour and learning site I could find, organized and took stock of everything in the kitchen, researched vitamins, herbs, and remedies ad nauseam, and made lists of everything I wanted to work on around the house. I told myself I was going to make the most of this, but the truth is my anxiety was looking for a plan and sense of control.
I’m guessing I’m not the only one out there whose foot taps as they try to take in a beautiful moment - but quickly, so they can move on to their to-do list- turning it into just another box to check off.
For a while I felt incredibly guilty about this. Why couldn’t I just turn off for a second? Diving deeper into how I felt in those moments I saw that it is my way of trying to be loving. Doing things for my family and community is how I show love. Making sure they are prepared, and worrying so they don’t have to, is how I protect them. When anxiety is high this instinct is a bug in my ear. Sometimes it’s a low buzz and sometimes it’s a cacophony, but it is always present. If this resonates with you I invite you to look deeper into your ‘why'.’ Chances are it is not something to beat yourself up for, but it is something you can release.
I was so excited to read a book the other day that my fiance randomly picked up for me. I finished it quickly, and realized the reason why; it was the first book I had read for pure enjoyment in at least 7 years. Everything else has been because I hoped to extract something from the reading. How often do we truly do something for our own enjoyment, and not to get anything out of it? This can turn into a strange paradox where we are having experiences because we believe we will get enjoyment or growth out of them, which then turns into pressure to experience them a certain way. I am doing all of my usual busy work while also setting the expectation for myself that I will relax, take the goodness out of this experience, and cherish what I can from it. Does that ever work?
I was musing aloud the other night that I hope we all keep some of the lessons from this. Feeling myself being calmer had made me realize how badly I needed to slow down, but the idea wasn’t fully ripened yet. It wasn’t the activities, socializing, and DOING of my normal life that was the problem. The problem is me and my own expectations. I could force myself to isolate for a year and I don’t think I would ever shorten my to-do list. If the expectation is that you always must be doing then you will always find things to do. Your life turns into one big Give A Mouse A Cookie joke.
I told myself I was getting fully dressed, typically doing my hair and at least a touch of lipstick every day so I wouldn’t sink into a rut. I knew how important it was to watch my mental health in these times. The truth, though, is that it was my way of reminding myself that this couldn’t be a vacation or an excuse to relax.
Spring is the perfect time to emulate a seed. Isolation may be the perfect pile of dark, stinky, fertilizer. A seed doesn’t just stretch and grow towards the sunlight. It has to break through its own shell and force its way through the manure to find light. Right now we are all planted firmly in our homes and our muck. No one is going to break our shells for us.
Seeing the image above pop up on my feed today suddenly cleared the fog away on the thoughts I was trying to find order in this past week. My own ridiculousness came into sharp focus.
So, my challenge to all of you who identify with even a little bit of this is to reverse challenge yourself for a few days. Allow yourself to stay in pajamas, cook frozen pizza, and maybe even gasp leave the laundry for a few hours. Look around your house and ask yourself what you always want to do, but don’t. I don’t mean cleaning a closet or scrubbing the baseboards. What do you want to do that holds no benefit other than your own pleasure?
If you can’t chill out for one day during a pandemic and social isolation you are never going to. So I’m inviting you all to get your shit not together with me.
With love,
Amber
