Slooooow down

My anxiety is palpable right now. I have a pot simmering on the stove to put some moisture in the air, humidity to ask as a salve against the scratch of my skin. I’m hoping the moisture will soak into my skin, calm the winds that are giving me heart palpitations.

Life is truly beautiful right now. I bought a van yesterday. I have a job interview on Thursday for a position that is -dare I say it- my dream job. Tina is sleeping next to me, and my best friend is on the way to take me to a thrift store.

The anxiety I’m feeling is not a dreadful one. I don’t see doom approaching. It’s more like I have so much to do and so little time. Build a van. Build a bookshelf. Buy a new cotton bra. Take Tina to the river. Read my library book before its due. Call my grandparents. All of these things are beautiful, but I do not know how to relax into them. I am trying to grow my muscle of intentional rest. It does not come naturally to me to sit down when the to-do list isn’t finished. Part of me believes that my brain does not deserve to shut down unless everything has been thought through, figured out, solved.

I never saw my mom rest, out of necessity and out of patterning. On the opposite end of the spectrum, my dad would spend all day passed out on the couch. Now, I have a fear of slowing down. I believe, from my mom, I do not deserve to rest because there! is! so! much! to! do! Rest is something you earn after a hard day’s work. It is twenty minutes of watching tv before you fall asleep. I fear, from my dad, that my home and my self will landslide into disarray if I let myself slow down. I will be a slob, lethargic and unclean. I will stay inside on sunny, warm days in a haze of sleep and booze while my children wander around for something to do.

I know there is a balance to strike. I can read a book mid-day and still maintain a clean home. I can take a nap and still call it productive. Our brains and bodies were not designed to constantly be in motion. It is not a moral failing to need to slow down. Still - the swell of resistance that pushes me to stay in motion is a mighty force.

I am lengthening my exhales to be longer than my inhales. My eyes close down, and I say to myself, you are safe to rest. Doom will not come crashing down and you will not slide into a coma of laziness. You are tired, you want peace, so give it to yourself. There is nothing to accomplish that will make you worthy of rest. That is a birthright. Slooooow down, it will be ok.