A small yet mighty shift
Many of us live out our days in a whirl — overstimulated and overwhelmed about what to eat, who to call, how to get out of bed, Should I have said something else, what about this WORLD, what about my bank account, how can I get to where that person is in life, did I remember to —, on and on and on. It’s like we’re chasing after peace — a moment of stillness or silence, but somehow, we never get there — or when we do, it’s not enough. You might be thinking, Yeah, a moment of rest would be great! But by the end of the day, I don’t have a single thought left over – between work and school and kids and dinner and all the things I still haven’t done.
If you’ve ever tried to slow down and be still, you may have noticed that instead of peace and quiet, you were greeted with alarm bells: anxiety spikes; you stumble upon an endless well of emptiness; or maybe you’re hit with the pang of guilt that you’re not productive. Who wouldn’t want to distract, doomscroll, or rage-clean, when faced with such doom? The thing is – that anxiety, that sense of dread or emptiness, may have good intentions: protecting you from thoughts that bring pain, sensations that stir you up, or a harsh inner critic who’s ready to convince you that whatever you’re doing is just so useless.
Again, If it wasn’t difficult enough already (see work + school + kids + dinner), if and when we pause and turn inward, slowing down really isn’t as easy as it sounds.
Before we can even begin to build rest into our lives and trust that it will and can be restful for us, first, we can just notice. Notice any resistance to slowing down. Notice any judgement, and see how you react. A gentle, inquisitive glance at our incessant buzzing or doomscrolling or hurrying may be the best place to start. Simply noticing the breath you didn’t know you were holding; the heaviness behind the eyes; a tight jaw; such clues can let us know there’s something we need. Like, a walk. A text to a friend. A breath. A snack. This noticing —without pressuring ourselves to make huge, sweeping changes-– is one brilliant step in a good, loving direction: toward the practice of accepting we, like every living, breathing being, need rest, care, and compassion. Noticing your need, for just a moment, is a small success you can build and rebuild upon.
This blog is not intended to replace professional counseling or clinical advice. If something here resonates with you, feel free to reach out and schedule a free consultation.
