On Sunday at 6:10pm, I will be taking off in an airplane headed for Ireland.
For now, it is 10pm and I have not (yet?) eaten dinner. Not for any Bad reason, just because I’ve been going nonstop since 8:30am. A week of work in the middle of the busiest month in our office, right before I’m out of the office for 6 business days–it’s Go Time. I’m hyperfocusing all day at work and then come home to either watch all of Season 2 of Sense8, pet my cat, and/or spend 5 hours trying to sign up to be a video tarot reader (only to hit red tape–god damn you Oranum).
And it feels like it has been go time for the last 5 months. I keep getting frustrated with myself the last 2-3 weeks. Why am I so tired? Why have I stopped blogging? Why don’t I feel filled with focus and energy and purpose like I did one month, two months ago?
Well, me, and anyone else who Relates: because you can’t always be “Up”. Because I was running on fumes of a survival instinct.
The last 5 months have been a whirlwind. They’ve kicked my ass. They’ve kicked my spirit. But they’ve also healed my kicked ass and my kicked spirit, all at the same time. It’s weird how things work that way sometimes. I see you, Saturn.
But now–I’m approaching a breath.
Not only because I’m going to be away from my desk job to visit my most favorite place in the entire world for 7 days and 8 nights. But also: Jack has finally moved in, so my home is finally settled. My bedroom is finally a bedroom. We finally have all the furniture we’ve spent the last 2+ months looking for.
Come Sunday, “go time” will stop.
Today at work I started to feel nauseous out of the blue; I think it was anxiety and blood sugar. Luckily it was right around my lunch hour, so I left my desk and headed down to the staff lounge to lay on the couch.
My head hit the hard wooden arm of the couch (not ideal but better than my desk) and I became aware that I was legitimately spinning. I shut my eyes and felt my thoughts swirling through my head. It was like having the spins from drinking but without any of the carefree laughter before falling asleep for 4 hours (only to wake up and have to go Number 2, drink a glass of water, and fall back asleep for another 4).
But really–I was shocked at how I physically stressed felt. My head was swirling. My chest was tight. My stomach was clenched. My breathing was shallow. My jaw was shut tight.
And something clicked for me: Oh shit–this is what mindfulness is. I’m noticing how my body feels. Lol 19 year old me would kick and scream.
I noticed all the ways my body was holding in stress and discomfort.
And then I breathed. I breathed in deep, all the way to my belly, and let my tense muscles turn into mush as much as they could. And the nausea went away. The headache went away. The discomfort went away.
It’s not like I haven’t ever done this before, but I think I really haven’t ever firmly understood that, like–yes, I can do mindfulness. I don’t need to call it that and use hippy dippy language that makes my Capricorn rising grind my teeth in defiance. But I can do it, I do do it, and it actually does help.
Pausing, noticing, allowing, and releasing.
As I head into Sunday, to a week I hope to be deeply restorative, I will keep these words in mind. Because chances are the moment my head hits that airplane seat and/or Jack’s shoulder, I will finally be able to notice how much I’ve been spinning over the last many months.
A thought for us all, each day:
Pause, notice, allow, release
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