There was a brief time as a teen when I recoiled from all the love I thought came to me too easily Some troubled part of me was disgusted by the fact that I didn't earn it The unconditional love of my mother, of my family, my pets seemed cheap and unsettling I couldn't help but stew in sour thoughts questioning what I had ever done to deserve it Sometimes it seemed like a consolation prize like accepting this love would confirm I was incapable of winning it for myself Now I've learned that, in fact, the sweetest, most sincere love is love we haven't earned Unconditional positive regard is a precious rarity to be grateful for Some people are not so lucky to have that unflinching affection selflessly bestowed for no reason A love that not even collision with disinterest or hatred will deter or destroy Few things are more meaningful or moving than being granted a love you feel unworthy of And there is no greater honor than to spend my life learning to pay that same love forward, indiscriminately into the open, imperfect hearts of others
Holding back the happiness has become a form of self-defense a suit of armor inlaid with spikes stripping the soul of all color A perversion of pleasure believed to be undeserved the conviction that hardships will hurt worse with contrast Let your heart lift with the certainty that there are no prerequisites for celebration the spirit is free to sing at its leisure relinquish the reigns of self-affliction Wrap your heart in layers of joy so when the rain comes, as it must you will have a safe harbor of happiness to sustain you from within Don't ever feel you must deny yourself life's most simple, innocent delights don't leave your soul to starve without its natural nourishment I promise you've already earned your small share of sunshine don't waste your life wondering if you are worthy You've won the lottery of merely living each automatic breath is a reminder that you deserve to be here and thoroughly enjoy it whenever you can
If you don’t love yourself, you cannot love others. You will not be able to love others. If you have no compassion for yourself then you are not able of developing compassion for others.Dalai Lama
It feels like this sentiment has received a lot of backlash in recent years. People are offended when you suggest their lack of self-love somehow eliminates their potential to love other people. This quote is at the back of my mind a lot and I’ve thought about it in different ways at different points in my life. I believe both perspectives have validity to them. I don’t think it’s impossible to have love for other people if you don’t love yourself. I know the love I receive from the people in my life often makes it more possible for me to show myself love and compassion. But I don’t think that was ever the message trying to be conveyed. The message to me was that you can’t love others fully or as much as you would be able to if you loved yourself.
Relationships of any kind are very difficult for me. I do think it stems a lot from the way I love myself, or rather the way I don’t love myself. Throughout my life, all the relationships that have stuck were with people that are extremely open, loving, caring, and communicative. These people are the easiest for me to connect with, because I feel safe with them. And I guess to a certain extent, maybe they have the self-confidence and self-esteem to not take it personally when I am in one of my anti-social moods.
I’ve recently noticed how a lot of my other relationships break down over time. If the other person is not always openly expressing their good opinion of me or how much they value me and our friendship, I slowly start to convince myself that they don’t care about me. Because of this often mistaken perception, I pull away. They notice me pulling away, so they pull away. My suspicions are confirmed, and the friendship/relationship is dead. Without the presence of a palpable and verbalized unconditional love, I don’t ever feel secure enough to maintain a relationship with someone.
This stems directly from the way I feel about myself. I don’t believe I deserve friendship or love. It makes more sense to me that someone wouldn’t like me. I seek out cues to reinforce this belief whether they are there or not. It takes a LOT of weight and evidence in the opposite direction for someone to counterbalance my negative self-perception. Which can understandably be an exhausting dynamic for anyone without the predisposition to interact that way.
This is what I think it means when someone says you have to love yourself first. No, I’m not incapable of having meaningful, loving relationships. I’m fortunate enough to have several that I deeply value. BUT I would be available for forming close bonds with many different types of people if I had a higher amount of self-worth. My self-loathing makes it far too painful to be vulnerable with anyone that I’m not 100% certain will receive that vulnerability with positive regard and support. I’ve already rejected myself to such an extent that seeing that reflected by another person, whether real or imagined, is unbearable.
I don’t think you have to love yourself to love other people. But it does make it a hell of a lot easier.
Only now am I making the connection between my childhood and the way I celebrate myself. It’s interesting to think about. When I was a child, I was exceptional. I didn’t realize it at the time, having no perspective on the matter. But now that I work with children every day I understand why so many adults in my life (my teachers, colleagues of my parents, etc.) seemed so amazed and excited about me as a person. I was always able to outperform my peers in nearly every way. I was incredibly intelligent and curious. I was creative and quite talented in my artistic endeavors. I even got straight As all throughout school, even in college.
Despite the showers of praise I got from so many people, my parents and family members never seemed too impressed. Because of this, I assumed the other people were just being polite or kind, and didn’t take their compliments to heart. My parents always treated me like I was a normal, average child. While other kids in my class got money for a report card with Bs and Cs, I never got anything at all for returning home with perfect marks. I was barely even patted on the back. While this was frustrating, I still believed it must just be because that was expected of me and I wasn’t doing anything special or impressive.
I’ve come to find out that, despite my parent’s apathetic reactions to my childhood accomplishments, they were very proud of me and knew I was gifted. In their minds, they didn’t want to make me arrogant or conceited with constant positive reinforcement. While they meant well, this approach definitely had other unintended consequences. Namely, as an adult, I find myself unable to give myself credit for my accomplishments or feel proud of anything that I do.
I never learned how to celebrate and enjoy personal success. Instead when I succeed I merely think that’s what I’m supposed to do, so it’s nothing to be especially pleased about. I find myself looking at other people’s lives and thinking I would be so happy and confident if I were them, but in reality I don’t think I would be. After all, I have a lot of amazing qualities and achievements myself. I just don’t acknowledge them. In fact, I even feel rather guilty when I try to tap into a sense of pride for who I am and how far I’ve come in my personal journey. I guess my parent’s fear of me developing an inflated ego has seamlessly transferred into my own mind.
Today, no matter how uncomfortable it might make me at first, I want to take the time to consciously note all of the incredible things I’ve done and continue to do on a daily basis. With the perspective of an outsider looking in, I’d like to try to adopt an objective perspective of my personal growth over the years. Maybe then I won’t feel so guilty about “doing nothing” or being “lazy” all the time. So here is a list of some things I think I should feel proud of.
- Bachelors Degree in Psychology, Minor in Writing: I’ve learned a hell of a lot about the human mind and my own internal biases and blind spots through my education. Sometimes I forget that the general public is not privy to a lot of the information I now use to guide my everyday life and decisions. While society doesn’t seem to value my degree very much, I’m still glad that I chose the major I did. I’m also proud that I graduated at the very top of my class, Summa Cum Laude.
- Certified Yoga Instructor: It sounds weird, but I feel so unworthy of this title that I often forget to even think of myself as a yoga teacher. I still remember idolizing my teacher in college and having a pipe dream that maybe I could teach yoga one day. Well I did it! I’m that incredible, beautiful, spiritual person that I once looked up too. And damn it, I deserve to give myself all the credit in the world for accomplishing something I hardly thought would ever be possible.
- Healthy Habits: In my late teens/early twenties, I really aspired to form healthy lifestyle habits. I would watch YouTube videos and follow Instagram accounts of people that I saw living the life that I so wanted to emulate. I really put people that could wake up early, exercise, and eat healthy on a pedestal. Yet, now that I’ve been waking up at 5AM and working out before work everyday and doing yoga and meditating religiously for years, I feel like it’s no big deal. It’s helpful for me to imagine how elated my younger self would be with the life I’ve cultivated for myself.
- Veganism: Being vegan is another goal that I had for a very long time, but never thought I would be good enough to manage it. Now that I’ve been vegan for just under ten years, it is just second nature. Even though it’s ridiculously easy now, I have to remember that this is an impressive feat to a lot of people, my former self included.
- Creativity: Despite not feeling very creative or talented most of the time, it’s still impressive that I manage to find time to dedicate to my creativity and imagination every single day. Even people that loved to write or paint in this youth often have given up these endeavors entirely once they transition into adulthood. My own sister, who is a phenomenal artist, no longer paints because she can’t find the time. I might not be a great artist or ever make anything that will have an impact on the world, but I think it’s beautiful that I make an effort to foster that artistic nature that we all have within.
While these things are not the only things that I’ve accomplished or think are deserving of my pride, they are a few of the most important to me. When I start feeling down on myself, like I’ve never done anything worthwhile with my life, I plan to look back on this list, add to it, and remember that I’m still an extraordinary individual.
Every being on this earth is truly unique. No two people think, feel, or experience the world the same. Therefore it stands to reason that each person in the world also has something unique to offer, whether that be in the smaller scale of people in their lives, or society at large. Each form of giving is equally valuable and fulfilling. I think it comes naturally for us to want to give back to our family, friends, and community. There is an inherent satisfaction in being helpful to other beings. Giving of ourselves is not the hard part. The hard part is knowing what our own special offering is.
Creativity and inspiration come from the deeply held belief that we have something worthwhile to offer to the universe. Artists can often feel compelled beyond all reason to express this powerful urge from within. Even in my darkest hours, a part of my intensified creative energy in this state is a deep longing to reach out and share my personal suffering with others. The idea that my suffering could be a comfort to someone else or an acknowledgment that they are not alone, that someone else understands, is a beautiful driving force.
I think one of the many reasons I’ve been feeling so stuck and unmotivated is that deep down, I really don’t believe that I have anything worthwhile to give. This feeling hanging in the background of all I do makes me want to be as small as possible. I shrink away from the world, trying to get out of everyone’s way. The bitter taste of conceit turns my stomach when I contemplate creative efforts. Who am I to create? Who am I to take up space? Lately everything I do, everything I am, feels like an affront to the world rather than a gift. I am filled with shame by the perceived presumption that what I say, do, feel, or create should or even could matter to anyone else.
Somehow I’ve always been able to hold two contradictory believes in my heart simultaneously: Everyone matters. I do not matter. Everyone has a unique and valuable gift to offer. I have nothing to offer. Everyone deserves to be loved. I do not deserve love. Even though logically I realize both of these statements cannot be true, that doesn’t seem to affect my conviction toward either one.
Perhaps I still just haven’t determined what my unique gift is. Despite all of my varied talents and skills, there are always a lot of people that out perform me in any arena. Once again, I would never proclaim that you have to be “the best” at something in order for your work to be worthwhile, somehow I hold myself to a very different and unrealistic standard. Maybe it would behoove me to get some outside perspectives on this matter. I wonder what those closest to me would say is my special gift. What is my unique value in this world? What I am able to offer in a way that no one else can?
Then again, despite the value you perceive personally, there is beauty in the idea of giving regardless of the “worth” of whatever that may be. Sometimes it is even more moving when someone with little or nothing of value shares the small amount they do have. Part of me believes that it is only our role to give, not to determine the value of that gift. After all we can never truly tell how something may affect or benefit another person. It’s the thought that counts, right?
I may never be able to determine for what reason I matter in this world. But I have faith that there is a reason for all of this despite my limited ability to understand. Maybe it’s not my place to know but to learn how to continue being without that knowing. Maybe it’s my place to give what I have and not worry about whether or not anyone else “wants” it. It’s the intention that matters. It’s the energy behind our actions that determine their worth, not the physical manifestation of those actions. No matter what I have, I can choose to give it with love, and that’s more than enough. And if others happen to think it’s not enough, that is their obstacle to overcome, not mine.
The fear of not being worthy of what my torn and bleeding heart so longed to do was the most frightening fear of all.David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
Mental healthy is a slippery thing. One day I’ll feel like I’m doing great things, living a beautiful life, surrounded by love and opportunity. Then next I’m silently screaming in the shower as my body crumples convulsively in on itself in an attempt to disappear. The thought that grips me most violently in these moments is that I am alone. I am so alone. I’ve always been alone. I will always be alone.
My mind scrambles searching for the people that I love. Where are they? Where have they gone? They dissolve into floating masks, colorful fictions. A door slams in the face of my heart. It feels like these people never knew me, don’t like me, don’t care for me at all. Worst of all, I can’t convince myself that this is not true. Even on my good days this feeling is there, I just don’t look at it closely so it doesn’t hurt as much.
Depression and anxiety play tricks on you. Tag teaming tormentors of the soul. They twist and contort the world around you until it becomes unbearable and grotesque. They block out the light and tell you you’ve always been in darkness. Pinholes poked through a shrouded sky reveal only the most painful parts of your reality. Suffocating. All consuming. Looming large on a jet black horizon that seems to be closing in faster and faster.
When I find myself in this desperate state, my already poor social ability breaks down even further. A drowning man violently grasping and grabbing, trying to pull everyone around down with them in a blind attempt at salvation. When my clawing hand is pushed away, it is a confirmation that I’m not worthy of the oxygen I need. The world becomes a funhouse mirror. I can’t bear to look.
I’ve often heard people saying “it’s not you, it’s me” is just a line, a cop out. That no one really means this when they break up with someone. I’ve never felt so sure of that. I’ve felt the truth of these words in my own throat. It is because I love the people in my life that I feel compelled to sever all ties with them. I am nothing but a burden, a leaden weight pulling them underwater with me. I’m a chore, an annoyance, something they would be happier and better off without. When someone ends their own life, everyone gasps, “How could they do that to their family?” Not realizing they probably did it for their family.
I’ve felt unworthy since the moment I conceptualized that was something one could feel. I’m sure other people feel this way, but I wonder if they feel it in the same sense that I do. I wonder if they hold it up to the light of justice and feel these pangs with that additional intensity. The added weight of taking what is not yours, of doing something vile and criminal, something sickeningly selfish.
All the bonds in my life feel tinged with injustice. I don’t deserve to be loved. I couldn’t possibly be loved. I am doing a disservice to everyone I meet by allowing them to pretend for the sake of my own neediness, to dissuade my heavy sense of self pity. The melodrama is thick, but it’s genuine. This is how I feel. When I push someone away, there is never even a moment’s consideration of whether that has hurt them, whether they are sad, whether they might miss me or want me in their life. These questions seem ridiculous to me. I’m clearly not worthy of remembrance or tenderness. You don’t miss a rock that has finally tumbled out of your shoe when you shake it.
When I begin to feel better, when my agitated state of mind starts to settle, I still don’t believe these things to be any less true. I never feel worthy of love. I just feel less guilty about receiving it. I never lose that sense of being utterly alone. Being alone just doesn’t seem to hurt as badly. I’m left with only a sense of embarrassment and shame for showing the world my suffering. For being selfish and conceited enough to think that anyone else should or would care, for bothering everyone by asking them to, for being so ungrateful when I already have so much more than I’ve ever deserved.
I’m just left wondering: How can you move forward, how can you be happy, find love, love yourself, when you feel so certain that you are unworthy of all of it? When you feel guilty for even wanting to?
Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, I was so nervous about the practical exam I was going to have to take in the morning that I was literally shaking. Not only was I terrified of the exam, but I was terrified that I was so terrified. I can’t even recall another time in my life were I was that afraid. To make matters worse, once I finally fell asleep, I woke up in the early hours of the morning with unbearably painful stomach cramps.
I’ve never had much of an issue with cramping throughout my life, so I was really surprised how badly I felt. My concern only grew as the pain persisted for much longer than I expected. It even seemed to intensify at times. I nearly passed out walking down the stairs to my bathroom. Then I laid on the cold tile floor for awhile, just trying not to throw up. I barely managed to pull myself up to go into the kitchen for water. I seriously considered going to the hospital. Near the end of this episode, I was actually convulsing with each fresh wave of pain. Thankfully, I eventually fell back asleep and still managed to feel moderately rested when I woke up a few hours later.
Strangely enough, I found myself feeling grateful for that painful interlude I experienced overnight. My anxiety about the exam was shrunken considerably. It’s hard to be afraid of a zoom call, when hours earlier you thought you might be dying. No matter what happened, I was just thankful that I was no longer in pain.
I was still a little jittery as I patiently waited for my turn while evaluating my fellow students. When my time finally arrived, I was given (rather unfairly I might add) a scenario much different and arguably more difficult than the others. Despite this, I managed to stay grounded and focused and do an excellent job. It went even better than I could have hoped. After that, the written portion of the exam was a piece of cake. I definitely was the first one to finish and there’s no way I scored less than 100 percent.
The most interesting thing about all of this is that after all those hours and days I agonized about this stuff, it seemed like my overflowing pride and relief lasted only a few brief moments. I noticed my mind already eager to start probing for more possible fears to latch onto and ruminate about. No matter how hard or scary I think something is beforehand, once I get through it, I immediately start downplaying my accomplishment. “It wasn’t that hard.” “It’s no big deal.” “I was just overreacting.” These are just a few of the ways my mind tries to rob me of any and every opportunity to celebrate myself.
Not today though, god damn it. This week has been hell. I’ve been on edge and anxious and afraid for what seems like an eternity. I never thought I would make it to where I am now. I deserve to celebrate. I deserve to feel good about myself. I deserve to be happy and proud. I’m not going to allow myself to minimize this amazing achievement. I’ve work hard. I’ve faced so many fears with courage and grace. I nearly called 911 from the bathroom floor last night! The rest of this day belongs to me. I am going to enjoy the hell out of it.
In fact, I am going to keep right on celebrating this entire weekend. I’ve earned a good rest and a reward after how much I’ve pushed myself past my comfort zone. I can’t wait to tell everyone about this incredible achievement. I’m gonna relax, get drunk, and go to a mother fucking psychic fair on Sunday with my best friend. Hell yes. I’m amazing. I am so worthy of celebration.
There are many forms of income inequality in America. Racism and sexism are evident in the compensation women and people of color receive in comparison to their white counterparts. I am baffled by the conservative push to indoctrinate children with the idea that we are all equal and that society is a fair game that, if played correctly, they can succeed in. For me, this was a bright and cheery message that made me happy and proud of humanity as a child, but it makes the painful truth of reality that much harder to swallow once you have to face it as an adult. I feel continuously confronted by the juxtaposition of the things I was raised for half my life to believe and what I experience as a woman.
I think there are a couple reasons why conservatives fight so vehemently for this picturesque worldview to be the only one our children are exposed to. Firstly, they truly believe it themselves. I’ve always thought of conservatives as primarily wealthy or well off people. They desperately want to believe that their good fortune is a direct reflection of their hard work and value to society. “I earned my place.” so on and so forth. It makes them feel badly about themselves to consider that they had a leg up compared to others. The poor conservatives that dominate my small area of the country are a bit more complicated to explain. I have to assume that despite their personal struggles, they want to believe that if they only work hard enough, they too can be wealthy and successful someday. On the other hand, perhaps its a subconscious form of self-hatred. Maybe they believe that they deserve the pitiful lot they’ve gotten in life through there own failings and flaws. It’s almost harder to accept that our society simply isn’t fair.
Secondly, I think that the data reflecting the income inequality can be confusing and misleading depending on what factors you choose to look at. For instance, not every job comes right out and pays women and people of color a lower wage for the same position. However, these populations are far less likely to be hired, promoted, receive raises, and move up in the hierarchy of their company. Whether this be through implicit or explicit bias is somewhat irrelevant. The fact is that people are suffering because of it. In addition to that, fields that are primarily women dominated are some of the lowest paying fields whereas male dominated fields tend to be the highest paid. Shockingly enough you can actually observe this trend. As the composition of gender within a field changes, so does the pay rate.
What fields women excel in and find meaningful are viewed more negatively and given less value by society, despite the actual necessity and importance of these careers. I don’t think anyone would argue that we don’t need social workers, child care, or teachers to be part of our society. In fact, I would say people would place these fields above things like CEOs, marketing executives, stock brokers, and lawyers in terms of importance. At least, I would. While these other, higher paying jobs are important, I don’t see them as the backbone of our society in the way a teacher is.
I think one of the saddest aspects of this dilemma is that it doesn’t seem to have any hope of correcting itself through the free market. If women (or people in general) began to avoid these jobs, perhaps they would begin to raise the pay and benefits in order to attract more people. They don’t have to, however, because for the most part, I think the people working these jobs do it because they see the inherent value in them. No one that’s a teacher or a social worker is doing it for the money. They are doing it for the children and disadvantaged populations that they serve. Compassion and self-sacrifice are the hallmarks of these careers.
Perhaps even more upsetting than that, I’m not sure things would get better for society overall if these jobs suddenly became the highest paying. I definitely would hate to see people in these fields doing it solely for the money. Imagine schools filled with teachers that didn’t even care about their students or the quality and value of their work. Not to say there aren’t any teacher like this even now, but I think there would be far more if it was a way to get rich. Although it still might be nice if they would at least pay these workers enough to live and to pay for the schooling required to obtain the job in the first place.
With that said, I really don’t have a solution to these egregious injustices that permeate our society and workforce. I just want anyone reading this to know that they shouldn’t feel badly about being paid so little for whatever work they might be doing. One of the important things we’ve learned from the pandemic is that “essential” workers are also some of the most underpaid. So while you might be internalizing the idea that what you do doesn’t matter or isn’t difficult due to the number staring back at you from your paycheck, don’t be fooled. What you do does matter. Don’t fall into the trap of believing we are fairly compensated for our time and labor. In the same vein, don’t assume you are better than anyone earning less than you either.
The judge that sits behind the desk in his ornate courtroom may hand down the sentences to the perpetrators kids disclose about, but the people I work with are the ones that have compiled the evidence used against them that was needed to reach that conviction. Who do you believe has helped the child more in the end, the prosecuting attorney or the criminally underpaid therapist that has helped them cope with and navigate their trauma for years after the fact? Even if you believe their contributions are equal, one makes the same amount in one year that the other makes in one week. Even so, take pride in all that you do to contribute to your community whether you work as a waitress or as a doctor. Neither person has more value or is more worthy of their place in society than the other.
One of the most common and recurring whines I’m sure we’ve all uttered in childhood is, “But it’s not fair!” Only once we’re older to we really realize that life isn’t fair. As children, though, we are told to “play fair” to “share” and things of this nature. We learn the moral value of justice and fairness, expecting the world that taught us these values to actually embody them. It’s no wonder that there is such friction and frustration when we go out into the world only to find that these lessons were all just talk.
I’ve always felt like most people make peace with this inconsistency more easily than I have ever been able to. I constantly feel victimized and cheated by small injustices we all face every day. I become especially exasperated when I think of the injustices of society as a whole. Even when I know that this period in history is a lot more just than it has been in the past, I can’t seem to let go of the idea that it should be better.
I constantly catch myself playing little mind games to even the score when I feel like I’ve been cheated out of money or have been treated unfairly in some way. The absolute madness of Comcast charging me $15 for a “self-installation” fills me with so much anger that I instead force myself to look at it as if the “free” product was what was $15. If something bad happens to me, I think of all the reasons why I must have deserved it. I’m always tallying up the score in strange ways like this in order to make myself feel a situation is more fair than it actually is.
For the longest time, I thought this was an excellent way to handle the injustices of the world. If I can play around with the facts in my head enough that I end up finding some sense of peace then all the better. However, just the other day I began to question this process of mine. Why must I make everything fair? After all, I know full well that life is not fair. Is it really doing myself any favors to pretend otherwise? Maybe instead I should be working on learning to sit with that unfairness.
It also occurred to me today just how hypocritical I have been in this regard, as we all tend to be honestly. We never scream “it’s not fair” when the scale is weighted in our favor. If I find myself on the beneficial side of an unfair arrangement, I feel rather pleased. I don’t feel any need to examine it or balance everything. Yet, if I’m the once short changed I am appalled and outraged. I feel helpless in the face of the big, bad, corrupt, unjust world. When I do something well, I expect to be rewarded in some way by the world. Yet when it comes to all the terrible, selfish things I do, I don’t expect punishment.
Most if not all of our suffering in this life is brought about by reality not living up to our expectations. By finding a way to make things always seem fair in my head, all I’m doing is subtly reinforcing my believe that the world should be fair. I think it’s time that I work towards accepting things even when they aren’t. Eventually there will come a time that no amount of mental effort will allow me to balance the scales of my life. It may sound depressing, but one of my new mantras is going to be “life isn’t fair.” I want to learn to accept this fact so that I am not crippled by my reaction to this part of reality when I inevitably encounter it in the world. Not only will practicing this new mindset of surrender and acceptance help me mitigate my anger at personal as well as societal injustices, it will also help me avoid internalizing a lot of the bad things that happen to me. Just because I experience some type of awful loss, doesn’t mean that I deserved it, nor does it have to be the end of the world, when things don’t go as I think they should.
Living busy isn’t giving you your worth. Slowing down is fighting back. The time you take is given back. Shifting gears is saving gas. Hiding in the quiet is a well of wisdom.Rest – Half Alive
With our technological advancements, we’ve been able to accomplish great things as a species. Electricity particularly ensures that we can continue working as long as we like. We are no longer restricted by the loss of sunlight. However, while we all enjoy this extra time, it has at some point switched from wanting more time to work on things, to feeling as though we always have to be working on something. Without a forced period of rest, we run ourselves ragged and never deem ourselves worthy of any respite from constant productivity and progress.
It took me a long time to even realize that I was struggling with this need to always be accomplishing something. Sadly, I didn’t consider myself one of those “busy” people because I never perceived myself as someone who was doing all that much, even when I was. Even now I constantly have to remind myself that it’s okay to just be. That is enough. There is nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about for spending time without a goal or direction.
For the last few days, I have been feeling particularly tired and unmotivated. Instead of allowing this to be a cue to give myself a break, usually I fight against it, making myself feel even worse. Whenever I’m tired, I’m also spending what little energy I do have beating myself up for it. “I don’t have time to feel this way,” I think to myself. “I’m already so behind on all that I want to get done.” Then as if by divine intervention, I heard exactly what I needed to hear last night on a podcast: Achieving your goals will not make you happy. Working on them will.
These words really put into perspective just how silly it is for me to rush myself to finish all of these things I want to work on. There is a part of my brain always telling me that is where happiness lies. Happiness is something to be handed at the finish line, after you’ve completed all of your goals. Even though we all know from experience that this isn’t the case, we need reminded of it often. The joy is in the process not the end result. So don’t feel overwhelmed for having a lot on your plate, feel grateful. That plate of yours is full of opportunities to find joy.
Another aspect of our reluctance to slow down is this strange idea that if we allow ourselves to rest, if we get off our own backs, that we’ll never do anything again. I feel this deep within my bones. I’m constantly vigilant of my momentum. I fear slowing down for even a single day will derail me entirely and make it impossible to ever pick my responsibilities back up. Even though logically, I know this isn’t the case, I can’t help but hold onto this irrational belief.
One of the things that helped me yesterday was shifting my perspective a bit concerning what my goals even are. I decided that my goal was actually to slow down and rest, to be kind to myself. That’s it. Viewing it this way, helped me see “doing nothing” as something productive. Although it sounds easy, it certainly doesn’t feel that way. It is actually one of the more difficult goals I’ve given myself.
So if you’re someone who is feeling exhausted, overworked, and rundown, this is your permission to rest. It’s not a waste of time. It’s not selfish. You deserve it. You need it. It’s worthwhile. Just as our technology needs to be unplugged and plugged back in sometimes so that it continues to work, we also need to let ourselves be unplugged for awhile. Today’s the day. Don’t put it off any longer. Rest.