Slowing down is hard. You're right when you said you took a step back to observe the arguing men and thought, "this country, this country..." One of the (myriad) problems here, besides the increasing divisions with people "taking sides," is this: we don't know how to stop. We are rewarded for proficiency and efficiency and productivity, not for resting or pausing or saying no. The overachievers among us (me) have had to learn through force -- like an aging body -- to listen and learn what doing nothing can teach us.
I just told Ben this morning how embarrassed I am to tell him (or anyone) that I just can't take something on, or that I need a break, or that I need help. I never used to do this; I'd just power through. But I know I can't anymore, because I don't have the stamina I once did. And my body (especially my lower back and my hips), when screaming in pain, remind me that I haven't slowed down for a while.
It's ingrained in our western society that doing = succeeding. But I think the opposite is true. I think growth occurs slowly, often in hidden ways. So the best I can do is grant myself permission to be slow or to stop. When I do, I often notice things I often miss when I'm rushing and accomplishing and busying myself.
I agree that we overdo everything in this country. Too much. Too much. Too much. And when it's ingrained in us from the get-go, it's challenging to alter that course. Add a Type A personality to the mix, and it's a recipe for burnout. I've recently also granted myself permission to slow down, but sometimes I have to remind myself to actually do it. XO
You know, my wife and I went to the batting cages the other day with our niece, and boy howdy did our bodies remind us the next day how we’ve aged! It was still a joy, and so too was the restful day of reading that followed. Glad I found your work via the WITD thread this week!
Shared reality, Katrina. Finding my way in my aging, ever changing body. My new project is to be peaceful with not being peaceful about my longing to do all the things my body will not do now. And I frequently tell myself to be more like Sissy.
Sissy is the greatest teacher, isn't she? Sweet, loving, loyal, forgiving, full of gratitude. I often say I want to be like her when I grow up. Hugs to you. XO
I’m with you on all accounts of this beautiful reflection. I am one who runs too yet my body tells me its limits. In stillness and in solidarity, my hand in yours.
Well, yes, I’m feeling for you, 6 months into a shoulder replacement & venturing into therapies for the arthritic thumb! And I hate easing off or asking for help.
But I do have some joints that don’t hurt & I can still type! We carry on, eh?😏
Indeed, we can! Shoulders, I've heard, are so painful. I hope yours is healing well. And if it makes you feel less alone, I have that damn arthritic thumb, too. Oy.
I’m with you on this one and it’s humbling indeed to have a mind of thirty year old or so and a body screaming, “Hold on there.”🥹As my grandfather would remind me that we’re all doing this together. No trap door or skylight to fly out of. BEing with what is. Gentle care to that knee and our animals are such wise teachers. Glad you are writing about it, Katrina. Xo🐾💞
I learn more from my pups than any human can ever teach me. They sleep, they stretch, they play, they snuggle, they eat with great gusto. What more, really, can we want from life? XO
My late psychiatrist friend gave it the very official diagnosis of "Takes her toys and goes home."
That made me laugh out loud! Thanks, Tracy!
Ha! I like that.
Katrina,
Slowing down is hard. You're right when you said you took a step back to observe the arguing men and thought, "this country, this country..." One of the (myriad) problems here, besides the increasing divisions with people "taking sides," is this: we don't know how to stop. We are rewarded for proficiency and efficiency and productivity, not for resting or pausing or saying no. The overachievers among us (me) have had to learn through force -- like an aging body -- to listen and learn what doing nothing can teach us.
I just told Ben this morning how embarrassed I am to tell him (or anyone) that I just can't take something on, or that I need a break, or that I need help. I never used to do this; I'd just power through. But I know I can't anymore, because I don't have the stamina I once did. And my body (especially my lower back and my hips), when screaming in pain, remind me that I haven't slowed down for a while.
It's ingrained in our western society that doing = succeeding. But I think the opposite is true. I think growth occurs slowly, often in hidden ways. So the best I can do is grant myself permission to be slow or to stop. When I do, I often notice things I often miss when I'm rushing and accomplishing and busying myself.
I agree that we overdo everything in this country. Too much. Too much. Too much. And when it's ingrained in us from the get-go, it's challenging to alter that course. Add a Type A personality to the mix, and it's a recipe for burnout. I've recently also granted myself permission to slow down, but sometimes I have to remind myself to actually do it. XO
You always speak to me, friend.
You know, my wife and I went to the batting cages the other day with our niece, and boy howdy did our bodies remind us the next day how we’ve aged! It was still a joy, and so too was the restful day of reading that followed. Glad I found your work via the WITD thread this week!
So grateful I found yours, too! And hitting the batting cages sounds SO FUN! :)
Shared reality, Katrina. Finding my way in my aging, ever changing body. My new project is to be peaceful with not being peaceful about my longing to do all the things my body will not do now. And I frequently tell myself to be more like Sissy.
Sissy is the greatest teacher, isn't she? Sweet, loving, loyal, forgiving, full of gratitude. I often say I want to be like her when I grow up. Hugs to you. XO
I’m with you on all accounts of this beautiful reflection. I am one who runs too yet my body tells me its limits. In stillness and in solidarity, my hand in yours.
Always in solidarity with you, my friend. XO
Well, yes, I’m feeling for you, 6 months into a shoulder replacement & venturing into therapies for the arthritic thumb! And I hate easing off or asking for help.
But I do have some joints that don’t hurt & I can still type! We carry on, eh?😏
Indeed, we can! Shoulders, I've heard, are so painful. I hope yours is healing well. And if it makes you feel less alone, I have that damn arthritic thumb, too. Oy.
I’m with you on this one and it’s humbling indeed to have a mind of thirty year old or so and a body screaming, “Hold on there.”🥹As my grandfather would remind me that we’re all doing this together. No trap door or skylight to fly out of. BEing with what is. Gentle care to that knee and our animals are such wise teachers. Glad you are writing about it, Katrina. Xo🐾💞
I learn more from my pups than any human can ever teach me. They sleep, they stretch, they play, they snuggle, they eat with great gusto. What more, really, can we want from life? XO
I'm 66 years in and still learning. I guess that's a gift, too. :)
It's all in how we look at it, my friend. Even though it often sucks. XO
Thank you, Julie.