About Hibernation
And also a little bit about kitchen sponges and trees, too.
Since my last post was about being tired, it seems only fitting for this next one to be about rest. I’ve been thinking a lot about seasons recently. It has been a pretty cold winter here in the mid-Atlantic part of the United States. (*I don’t have official stats here. This is just me thinking, wow, it’s been at or below freezing A LOT recently. You know, super scientific stuff). So the cold coupled with the aforementioned deep tiredness has me thinking about all things warm and cozy and tucked in.
About hibernation.
Several years ago I stumbled on a meditation from Sarah Blondin where she talks about the importance of seasons. About how leafless trees in the winter aren’t dormant, but instead doing the important work of storing energy to bloom in the spring. I was in a low period creatively, feeling the sting of rejection and the pressure to write a thing that might someday sell and I listened to that mediation everyday for weeks on end. Just a tree in the winter became my mantra for interrupting the spiral of you don’t have ideas right now because you aren’t a good writer and no one wants what you’re creating, anyway. It’s still a mantra (and meditation) that I come back to regularly.
In this season of deep tiredness (which is indeed collective, based on the response to my last post) it’s easy to fall into a similar negative spiral around the concept of rest. For many years I’ve been an early morning person. Those quiet hours between 5:00am - 9:00am are my most creative. They are also when I like to set the stage for my day: a delicious breakfast, a warm cup of coffee, meditation. I also like to run or do yoga in this time block. But recently, at least several days a week, it has felt important to add at least an extra hour of sleep back in.
And while on one hand it feels like a good decision to honor my need for rest, there is also that chorus of little voices in my head: think of all the miles you aren’t running, you signed up for that 10K and said you were going to do a half marathon. You should be spending more time on your writing— are you even serious about it anymore? Negative Self Talk (let’s call it NST, for short) really is such a stubborn bully, right? Here I am trying to do something positive for my health and NST is trying to derail that with these rude, loud thoughts about all the things I’m not doing. Adding salt to the wound, it loves to produce these thoughts while I’m trying to roll back over for that extra hour of sleep.
In attempt to keep NST in check, I’ve started calling this season a hibernation. I’m not changing my morning routine forever, just for a season. Like a bear tucked into her cave for the winter, I’ll be back in the spring. (*I actually know nothing about how bears hibernate, but this is my vision, probably derived largely from storybooks as a kid. Again, super scientific stuff). If bears and caves aren’t your thing, I heard another great reframe for this recently during a virtual session about navigating productivity guilt with Madeleine Dore. She used the analogy of a kitchen sponge, explaining that with creativity sometimes we are in a “soaking in” phase and sometime we are in a “wringing out” phase. We need both. You have to soak in what nourishes and inspires you to be able to wring out beautiful work. You can’t do one without the other.
So if you are also feeling like you need to rest in this season of deep tired and you are feeling guilty about it, perhaps it is helpful to think of the bear cuddled in the cave storing energy for whatever the important work bears do in the spring is. Or the sponge soaking in all the goodness to pour it back out when you’re ready. OR maybe you’re a bear-shaped sponge! Or maybe that’s too much . . .
Mixed metaphors aside, let’s give ourselves the grace to hibernate this season.
Things of Beauty
Just a few things that felt particularly soul-nourishing recently (or maybe just made me smile).
This article on languishing versus flourishing, which a student reminded be about recently (thanks, Ethan!). I read it early in the pandemic and it felt so resonant— it’s still spot on now. Definitely worth a read (or re-read).
I’m a big fan of a motivational wallpaper for my phone and these from Morgan Harper Nichols are the best. (In keeping with the theme here- my phone is currently adorned with the one about rest.)
Union Square Cafe’s Bar Nuts - Years ago I made these all the time, until I burned them badly and decided to take a little break. I recently stumbled across the recipe again and it was like running into an old friend at a bar!
Rooting a plant! And it worked! (I don’t have the greenest of thumbs.):
Are you finding rest amidst the deep tired? Have you found any good metaphors (mixed or otherwise) to combat guilt around this? Or maybe you just want to share what you know about trees or hibernation- would love that!
Be well,
Mary-Chris
Such a nice concept – "honoring the bear within." The challenge as you highlight so well is responding to that cacophony of shaming voices telling you what a laggard you are. The longer they stay around chanting, the more they recruit the other haunts, our host of inadequacies and past failings.
Madeleine Dore talks about the "soaking in" in her book, too! I love that you've given your negative self talk the abbreviation NST because it creates this separation from yourself and the talk. I am definitely in this hibernation phase as well, and I also have to remind myself that this is only for the season. Super relatable.