Necromancer sprite of spring pulling life out of forgotten graves is there still a garden inside me? I can't remember what grew there It's never easy getting up again after months spent underground the soil lies heavy on tired eyelids the ache of empty veins refilled Growing tired of endless cycles water wheel curse in the river of time caught in constant non-consensual motion wringing out energy with drops of blood
Heavy exhales over empty letters rhythmic sound of silence between the staccato tap, tap, tap of raindrops the first early sunrise of spring All the hollow places behind closed doors filling up with stale air and lost potential the low, steady vibration of everything changing unseen certainty of an end to all suffering Slow moving ripples across a glassy surface someday all small waves must subside surrender, be submerged inside dark waters the final resonating chime of complete connection Pretty little phrases that all add up to nothing the profound contradiction of existence inescapable, exhausting act of treading water always saying I'm too tired to do it again tomorrow
All the big picture ideas get bogged down by tiny details nothing ever seems worth the trouble of teasing out the tangled minutia Ambition without aim is an oxymoron although something inside me still aches an unreachable itch for a project worth pursuing a tangible goal to give life meaning again Maybe every direction is just a distraction a mirage in the distance to keep us moving through a desert that is identical wherever we stop would it all be the same if I simply sat down here? It feels shameful to keep existing without a purpose the unsightly sin of complacency is a heavy shroud the urge to prove myself through accomplishment is a set of iron shackles around my trembling soul Motivation is meaningless and amorphous to me now there has never been satisfaction at the end of my striving the soft voice inside just says that its time to rest indefinitely in the end, all I want is to want nothing
I'm tired in a way I can't put into words the liquid soul I once housed with pride has slowly dripped away, now I'm bone dry Even the effort of asking myself what I want is more than I can manage anymore all I want is to want nothing This spiritual fatigue leads me to what is easy the path of least resistance is what I always pick regardless of the potential for happiness It just feels unlikely I'll ever uncover the strength to lift my head back up to face the world as I did and self-pity has become so sour on my tongue I want to be an artist and add my own beauty to life but my intentions get twisted and misconstrued distracted by the imagined gaze of unknown eyes So ashamed at the presumption of being worthy tearing myself to shreds to demonstrate to the world how aware I am that I'm not enough How can you ask for help when you don't feel you deserve it? how can you change direction when you're too tired to keep walking?
Sometimes sickness is a blessing because it softens my sharp edges I can more easily surrender to what is My inner flame is subdued allowing me to offer gentle energy and loving kindness in place of judgement Finally an opportunity to slow down to enjoy giving myself comfort and care as I patiently nurse my tired inner child No longer able to resist much needed rest settling quietly into soft stillness I may like to stay here for a little while longer
Lead weight of lethargy limbs made heavy by slow flowing blood cursed with a natural inclination to bow before gravity's siren song taking small sips of poison potions in search of a lightening elixir squinting eyes gaze at the sun soft prayer for this feather soul to grow glorious wings Sloppy frustration of trying to swim through water with baggy clothes saturated by the dense atmosphere of all the things that can never be known while holding the boulder of what is Energy wasted and unseen between tangled networks of misfiring neurons thoughts running thick like black ink spilling over and staining everything filled up with empty fear Invisible burden of a world on fire venom coughs from soggy lungs silent sickness of a sinking mind staring blankly upwards from beneath the dark rhythm of the sea
When was the last time you really allowed yourself to do nothing? Not planning for the day ahead, not going for a walk, not even doing yoga and meditating. Really and truly nothing. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a day where every second wasn’t accounted for with some form of activity. I used to think that as long as I wasn’t at work, I was resting. Now I realize life isn’t that simple. Even on my days off, I have a rigorous schedule to follow by the minute. I am constantly checking the clock, checking my to-do list. Sometimes my relentless repetition from day to day has the effect of turning even fun, lighthearted activities into chores. Chores I nevertheless continue to perform, forgetting that my original intention was to enjoy myself.
I heard this phenomenon referred to the other day as “internalized capitalism” and I hated it. Is this really why I feel the need to always be productive? I may not be someone who obsesses over their actual job, but I tend to turn my own personal pursuits into a job. I am my own task master. But behind my own neuroticism, is capitalism really running the show? After all, why do I feel the need to be productive all the time? I’ve always thought working only as much as I absolutely have to and saving the rest of the time for myself was a rebellion against capitalist ideals. Now I’m beginning to wonder if that very system managed to seep into my mind somehow anyway. Why am I so afraid to rest? Why does “wasting time” feel so taboo?
Part of the conversation on “internalized capitalism” was really interesting to me. The hosts of the podcast mentioned that perhaps we tie our self worth to our productivity and usefulness to others because at the end of the day, none of us really know why we’re here. I thought that was a fascinating idea. Without inherent direction or purpose, we subconsciously decide that our purpose is production and selfless service. On paper it doesn’t sound like a bad purpose. It’s quite noble to dedicate your life to serving others. The problem only appears when we decide this is the only thing that matters.
The search for meaning is a perplexing one. Why do we humans long for a reason? Do other animals question their purpose? Do plants wonder why they exist? It seems self evident that we would want to find meaning in the chaos that is existence, but what makes us so sure there is a meaning in the first place? Furthermore, why is the idea that our purpose is to simply exist so unsatisfying? What is it inside of us that makes us desire a reason for being alive? Isn’t just being alive enough? Can’t we just be grateful and enjoy it? Then again, perhaps our innate need to understand this mystery implies that there is an explanation out there somewhere. Whether or not we’re meant to find it in this life is another story.
I’ve always liked the idea that we get to choose our own purpose. The meaning of life is for us each to interpret for ourselves. However, why is it so hard to fully commit to our own interpretation? For instance, I would say the purpose I’ve assigned to my life is to love and be loved, to learn, to experience, and to enjoy. When I break down my day to day existence though, does it really reflect that purpose? Not really, but how can that be? I get to choose the purpose, and I get to choose how I live, don’t I? Our actions are so often counterintuitive to our own wishes.
Given that none of us really know why we’re here, why is it so difficult for many of us to simply rest? I think part of me is afraid that if I allow myself to rest, I’ll never find the motivation to get back up again. Objects at rest tend to stay at rest right? Humans aren’t objects though. I shouldn’t fear slowing down every now and then. Objects are moved by external forces, momentum keeps them going, and once they stop, they never know when or if they’ll be propelled into motion again. Living beings are different. My energy, my movement comes from within. It’s important to rest so that I can refill my energy stores. There is an elegant dance at play, an eternal struggle to find balance between these two states.
I want to learn to trust my body, to listen more closely when it whispers what it needs, to stop denying it’s pleas for rest. I’ve been pushing myself for so long now, it seems like my body only ever asks for rest. I’ve tricked myself into believing this is all it has or will ever ask for. That it’s my job to overcome this desire for inertia each and every day. I’ve lost faith in my own resilient spirit. I’ve forgotten that it’s a joy to move, to create, to explore. Allowing myself moments of stillness won’t leave me trapped there. I’m sure that if I were to only give myself time to rest, once I was replenished, I’d be eager to get back to “work.” Maybe intervals of rest would keep me from feeling like my life is work at all.
I may be pleasantly surprised like I was after my stint of working from home. I had thought working from home would be ideal for me. I had always wished for that or even not having to work at all. Yet, after a few months I was actually dying to go back to the office. All that time alone had the opposite effect. I wasn’t happier. I was being consumed by my own self-destructive behaviors. I had worried that it’d be a huge burden to go back eventually, but I was surprised to find myself overjoyed when my time at home finally ended.
Try to give yourself at least a few minutes of true rest today. Sit in the grass and stare at the clouds. Listen to your favorite album start to finish. Have a long bubbly bath. Take a nap without guilt. It’s been so long since I’ve incorporated rest into my life, that I’m honestly struggling to come up with examples. What do you like to do to rest? I would love to hear your ideas. Maybe you’re an introvert and rest looks like spending time alone. Or maybe you’re an extrovert and to replenish yourself you like to spend quality time with loved ones. Whatever it is, you deserve it. Give yourself the gift of rest. Use it as an experiment if you like. How might rest give you the energy you need to more fully enjoy the busy moments?
Even though I sleep A LOT, I am always extremely tired. When I wake up in the morning, I don’t feel rested. It’s a strange feeling to live with. It’s not that I feel physically tired. I mean, it takes a lot of energy to do the insane workouts that I do every day. Now that I think about it, my body very rarely feels fatigued. The tiredness I’m experiencing is mental, not physical. It feels almost as though my body has two completely separate storehouses of energy, and my mental storehouse has been empty for a long time now.
From the moment I wake up in the morning, a battle begins inside of my head. I start listing off all of the different things I’ve got to do before I leave for work, throughout the day, etc. I am critiquing and criticizing myself almost immediately after opening my eyes. I’m experiencing a mental beatdown every minute of the day. It’s no wonder that meditating and doing yoga is such a peaceful time for me. My practice is the one time a day when my mind actually gets to rest and just be.
I am always telling myself that I need to make time to rest. I never seem to be able to keep myself from cramming in tons of tasks every day though. Working full-time, teaching yoga, and taking care of a house all by myself doesn’t leave me much wiggle room for relaxation. But today I realized that at the very least I can try to afford myself some mental rest. There is absolutely no need for me to constantly be consumed by racing thoughts and self assessments. I don’t know how much control over it I really have, given that it is part of my anxiety disorder. However, I’ve also never taken the initiative to try before.
Today my intention is to rest, to surrender to the moment, to just soak in my surroundings, to just be. I’m always too afraid to even try to let go of my constant planning and self-talk. I’m afraid of losing track of all the things I have to do. I’m afraid of forgetting something important. I know that even purposefully putting everything on hold for one day won’t be the end of the world though. Today the only thing that matters is being kind to myself. Today is my day for rest, recovery, and self-love. What could be more important than that?
Protect the Innocent 