I’ve said it before–I’m a woman who does well, exceptionally well, with days that require double what it takes.
What I don’t do so well with is down time. The days in between sticky note goals.
I just finished my 200-hour yoga teacher certification. Just as in yesterday.
It’s been a nearly six-month journey. And I made it. I’m not entirely unscathed, but I’m doing my best to make sure the surface wounds don’t scar.
A dear friend, last year, pointed out this pattern I have…to thrive, survive, and then not take a break. I tend have the next “thing” lined up. And I dive right back in, with barely enough lungs in my air to make it out alive. He encouraged me to remember that, when I was done this time.
I heard him, and I promised myself that after YTT was done, I was going to breathe. I was going to spend time on the surface. Letting my pale skin see some sun.
And when I went to bed last night, it sounded so the plan.
But then I woke up, on a dreary Monday, bone-tired, and I felt it. The little tick I get. My brain is already waxing on the what’s next. Whenever I have a moment of not actively thinking about something, the plans start running around the track. Different ones taking the lead with each corner.
And I start to feel a little sunk already.
But, this time, I am refusing to lean in. I’m swimming up. I am declaring a freeze on making plans as I head into March.
Not all plans…I made some serious weekend ones:
My car’s first roadtrip. A first getaway with the man. A couple days of untimed space to just be.
But the kind that my brain is already starting to taunt me with…I’m saying no.
Because I want days off. Days to appreciate the work that my brain and my body just put in. Time to figure out what I want to do with that certification. Weekends without alarms. Open calendar space. Nights to dream about what’s next. What I really, really want.
A chance to seek again.
And with that, we head into March.