“What you need is to rest.”
After two solid years of living in crisis mode as my husband and I lost both of our mothers to prolonged illnesses, I was not surprised to be tired beyond measure. I had never before been so depleted on all levels – mind, heart, and body. Therefore, I was not surprised to hear from friends and counselors alike that I needed to honor this exhaustion by embracing rest.
What did surprise me is that resting is not easy for me to do. Is this true for you, too? Despite knowing deep in my soul that this is what I need, something in me feels super uncomfortable about choosing to do less for a while. Something twitchy in me is quite ready to betray my commitment to rest and healing by filling my head with half-baked ideas. Even as I marvel at how tired I still feel, something deep within me is terrified that I will get stuck in “rest mode.”
You know how when you travel to another time zone, and it takes the same amount of time that you were away to readjust back to your own time zone when you get home? Downshifting from a time of crisis is starting to seem to me to work the same way.
Our body is designed for short bursts in crisis mode, but not to hang out there
When you’re in crisis mode, you are on high alert. More often than not, action is more necessary than reflection. In crisis mode, you are relying on your sympathetic nervous system – which creates and releases “flight or fright” neurochemicals and hormones. Do you know how you feel just after you manage to avoid the car that swerved into your lane on the highway or after you somehow catch your great-grandmother’s precious vase as it slips from your wet and soapy hands?
Hyper-alert. Heart racing. Edgy. Limbs shaking. Speaking personally, this is not the way I’d choose to feel for the long haul. The sympathetic nervous system makes us highly effective in fraught moments, but it takes a toll on us – mind, heart, and body. We are designed to sustain short bursts of time in this state and to return to the calming, soothing, restful way of being provided by the parasympathetic nervous system – which creates and releases “rest and digest” neurochemicals and hormones.
It is sad but true that on a regular day in a regular week, the world around us is moving at such a pace that we are often unable to pause long enough to reset between bursts of action. In short, we are out of practice downshifting. See for example, the sharp increase in anxiety- and panic-disorders around the globe in the last 20 years. (See The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt.) Humankind is trying desperately to catch up with the incredible pace of life powered by technology.
When I pause to take a look at my back-to-back crises in the light of this global “moment” of ours, it’s easy to imagine how I could have gotten “stuck” in flight or fright mode. After all, we know it’s much harder to create a habit than it is to break one. Two years in crisis mode was enough time to make living that way feel normal for me. No wonder I’m struggling! I’m trying to get back to a way of living that no longer feels normal.
Yoga helps us to downshift from crisis mode – it’s just not as simple as we’d like it to be
Yoga is a practice that is designed to change our “hardwiring.” Unlike the way we slam into high gear when the sympathetic nervous system swings into action, yoga creates change that is gentle and slow. We are not meant to force change. Not only does this not work for long, but it creates tension and strain – the exact opposite result intended by a practice that invites us to a calmer and more mindful way of life.
The yogic principle of bramacarya (moderation), the fourth of Patanjali’s five yamas or laws of life (as introduced in my essay All You Need is Love), guides us here. As we seek change, we need to allow ourselves the space and the grace to take one step forward and two steps back. We need to allow both the practice and our intended change the time to take root. We need to trust that if we can change in a way that is not good for us in the long run, it is similarly possible for us to change in a way that is good for us. We need to be as patient as we are persistent.
In my case, it wasn’t hard to notice how tired I felt or how much I did not want to feel that way anymore. What has been hard for me is honoring both my tiredness and my comfort with the pace of crisis mode. Even though I know that the antidote for exhaustion is rest, there is a part of me that thrived within the flurry of action of the last two years and she still yearns for the quick fix of simply replacing that action with an equal flurry of fun and interesting stuff.
This is not moderation. This is just immoderation dressed up to look nurturing. What is moderation is being gentle and kind with myself as I realize (again) that I am avoiding the rest that I so desperately need. (Cue sweet grandmother voice: “Oh dear, this is so very hard for you, isn’t it?)
If we are as patient as we are persistent, change will slowly happen
Moderation is a willingness to try again – and again, and again – because that is the only way that we humans can change our hardwiring. So, I take a deep breath. (By the way, it is shown that a deep breath to the very bottom of your lungs stimulates the nerve endings that awaken the calming parasympathetic nervous system.) I set an intention to trust that what I need is to slow down and to stay slowed down for long enough that it starts to feel normal.
Then and only then will I be rested and able to gracefully and mindfully start to shift in and out of high gear again.
“At its best, moderation produces the highest individual vitality.” Yoga Sutra chapter 2, verse 38 as translated by T.K.V. Desikachar.