Just So Tired . . .

Seeking real rest and finding more questions than answers

This past Tuesday afternoon I sat at my desk trying to finalize plans for a meditation I was leading the next morning and the class I teach on Wednesday nights, but instead all I could think was: I am so tired. Last month I read so many articles and posts about people not feeling ready to jump into 2022 with both feet, about trying to hold on to a more gentle start to the year. My colleagues have talked about how the semester is just kicking off, but their energy levels feel closer to what they are at the end of a semester, not the very beginning.

Collectively as humans we are deeply tired.

I think we are to the stage in the pandemic where we’ve forgotten. For many of us, the mask-wearing, the over-emoting to connect through covered faces, the distancing, the litany of questions and caveats involved in getting together with a small group of friends, the planning and un-planning, the debating why our nose is running— has started to become just what we do. We’ve forgotten that this is so different from how we have approached the world our whole lives. There is a fatigue that goes with all these little decisions that that adds up and leaves us so tired.

I’m not sure, scratch that— I’m certain— that trying to navigate this world of a thousand tiny decisions as we navigated a pre-Covid world is not the answer. It wasn’t working then either. Pushing through the tiredness, convinced we’ll just adapt is not setting us up for success. It’s setting us up to accept this level of exhaustion as just how things are. I know this intellectually, and yet I feel myself doing it. Coaching myself to dig deep and get it done just as I always have. The instinct for this is strong.

And the instinct for setting boundaries and saying no is weak. Even if you work in an environment supportive of this, it’s not second nature and you’re going to feel like you’re letting someone down. Which, to be honest, you might be. There’s a bigger more macro-level thing at play that makes seeking spaciousness in our work difficult. The idea of doing more with less people. Those small, nimble teams most of us are a part of these days, mean there’s a good chance there is more on our task lists than we will ever accomplish. Throw in a dose of perfectionism and/or people-pleasing to that mix and it’s easy to see why stepping away can be hard.

And yet I don’t think we can continue this way. How can we give ourselves and others grace for the things that need to fall away? How can we normalize not getting all the things done?

I have more questions about this than answers, but I wonder if it starts with focusing on the quality of our interactions with people, the quality of the work we are producing over the quantity or quickness of it. Maybe it’s not how many people I interact with but the quality of those interactions. Perhaps it’s not the quickness of my email response to you but it’s thoroughness when it comes. Maybe it’s not how much I produce, but how valuable/accurate/helpful the end product is. Is it possible to normalize slower, but better? Less but more?

I don’t know. But I know I’d like to try.

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Things of Beauty

Just a few things that felt particularly soul-nourishing recently (or maybe just made me smile).

This post from Kelton Wright at Shangrilogs about trying to hold on to the early morning quiet. It so resonated with my feelings of deep tiredness and wanting change in how we approach work (also, the pictures are beautiful).

I’ve been enjoying Kate Bowler’s good enough blessings so much recently. This interview was my first introduction to her.

This chicken soup!

Rainbow on a rainy day:

Would love to know how you really are this week? Are you feeling the deep tired, too? What are your thoughts (and questions!) about how we find some rest in all this?

Be well,

Mary-Chris