Why is rest so hard?
And transitions so messy?
Hello. Hi.
It’s been a moment. In that moment I’ve moved across the country to the beginning of a new life I didn’t quite expect. I’ve been taking the month to ground, process and communicate. To nest. To explore. And… sort of… to rest. I’ve had things to say and at the same time nothing at all that wanted to come out.
The landing has not been as smooth as I imagined. Partially because big transitions are big. Endings are big. Beginnings are big. And the messy middle is, well, messy. The dying of one type of life, one way of being that has become outgrown is uncomfortable. The trying on of new habits, routines and versions of who is forming in the empty space is uncomfortable. It’s trial and error (even for all those non 3rd lines… whom, I’d take a stab in the dark and guess that it might even be more uncomfortable).
One thing that I’m reflecting on as I’ve landed is that I had a willingness and readiness to let go of the physical manifestation of my old life. I’ve been undoing and untwisting threads of that life for the last 6 months (ever since I let go of what I “do” in the world). But it wasn’t so clear how deeply held some of the patterns that run my life are buried in my insides until I actually got to tip toe the edge of the new beginning.
If you’ve read this substack for a while you’ll know that in March I sold my cafe (read about it here). It was all at once needed, desired and grief filled. But it was a necessary step to unwind my nervous system after a tumultuous few years of choosing the energy expensive route (towards something that turned out not to be my path anyway). For some wild reason, my mind thought that letting that go would be enough to relax my system. To restore balance. To establish a reality that didn’t require constant preventative self care. And funniest of all, my mind thought it would happen quickly. That simply removing the trigger for the patterns (and the perceived necessity of functioning a certain way) that my body would easily fall back into its resourced state of functioning.
But what I found instead is that I don’t know how to rest. I don’t know how to unwind. The doing nothing is far harder than doing something. Even when that something is pointless, busy work and being done purely for the sake of doing. For the 5 months I spent in my outback home town after I sold the cafe I spent a lot of it sitting in front of my laptop doing things for the sake of a todo list. For the sake of ticking something off and patting myself on the back to ensure my mind (and ego) that I had done enough. That I had done a sufficient amount of “work” to now invite rest. What a joke.
It was only in the last month of being there, when my mind had finally settled on what was to come and when it was coming (the move, the cottage) that I finally felt my body ease a little. A little letting go of the grip my hand had on my life and what was a valid use of time and what was not. AND I want to hypothesise that this was to do with the fact that I now had a purposeful action I could be doing (packing, sorting and organising) that I would weave throughout my day. So in essence, it was a false relaxing in itself.
Some of this is unquestionably linked to the value today’s society places on work. On output. On how our validity and worthiness is tied to what we do in the world and how much money we make doing it. Some of it is most probably linked to childhood patterns of proving (hello open ego) that I am valid use of space. Proving through achievement and external actions that I am good enough to be noticed, loved and attended to. Some of it will be the deeply run patterns of my daily habits. Regardless of where it comes from, it’s not something I want taking space in my life anymore. It’s not the pace I want. It’s not the use of energy I want. It’s not the mental gymnastics I want.
I’ve noticed a few things about rest, unwinding and new beginnings after the move…
The first, is that environment and location make such a palpable difference. Environment isn’t everything and it could never be pegged as some factor that’s going to completely change your life - you have to be in that process yourself first. But environment really does help resistance dissipate. Being in the right environment, one where the body feels good means that there is less resistance to wade through in order to find the point of unclenching. It’s the difference of swimming up stream and swimming down stream. You’re still swimming, you still have other things to focus on and your body is still in action… but it’s the absence of resistance that frees up your energy, vitality and spirit so it can focus on other things, feel differently and see the world through a different lens.
One very cool thing to witness, is that following the move my baseline HRV (heart rate variability which measures nervous system functioning) has gone up which indicates the body is better equipped to handle stress. While I don’t know (or care) for the accuracy of the number itself, I do love tracking these sorts of things to see whether there is a measurable effect to go along with the somatic experiencing of something. The change of environment has (on paper) given my body a boost in it’s ability to handle hard things. HRV is notoriously low when the system is overwhelmed or in states of chronic stress. Mine has been about as low as it can go for as long as I’ve been tracking it. It’s something I have been experimenting with all year (does sleeping alone change it, does diet, does movement, supplements etc) and this change in environment has made the only noticeable change that I’ve witnessed. The body responds to things intensely (for the good or bad) and when it does, there is something our mind should take note of.
The second, is that rest is so individual. And it is a HARD and often uncomfortable action to take for ourselves when we are used to the body chemistry, pace and validation of moving fast and staying busy. The whole process has gotten me very interested in the physical responses to different types of rest, self care and self reverence. And how dependant on our own make up and design this is. For example, my version of rest is not the same as my husbands. Our designs are totally different and so our brand of self care, road to wellness and reality of what constitutes rest is completely different. There’s a tricky balance that lies in discovering the unique edition of what is actually restful, replenishing and restorative for you. There’s the ingrained habits that keep us avoiding true rest and there’s actions that could look awfully close to these that are actually a part of that medicine for you. Then there’s the intention that lies behind them that also totally changes the outcome within the body.
Take my own observations on my version… My versions of rest aren’t completely inactive. Rest feels better for me when there’s some sort of active brain or body component to what I’m doing (I have left facing Design variables in HD). But I can easily cross a line, telling myself that whatever I’m doing is still rest when really it’s my mind (and not-self centres) taking over and pushing me into doing for the sake of doing. Studying, learning and reading all feel like rest to me. But then again, I am a projector with an active brain, active body and focused view. The intention behind those actions is far more important than the action itself (because I can absolutely make myself study to prove to my ego that I’m doing enough to be worthy of existence… or I can fall into a book because my curiosity gives me no choice). That’s not to say my brand of wellness doesn’t also include things that are a little more still, quite and passive. But one thing I’ve found with years of experimentation is that I’m not a silent yoga, meditation or rest kind of gal… I like to either follow along with an teacher or play just the right type of music to keep my brain engaged. Regardless of the pace or activity, I like a level of stimulation.
Our Human Design authorities (aka, listening to your body over your mind) play a huge role in moving us towards what is healthy for us and what is more easeful for our energy. It gives us an in built checking system that we can run a modality, practice or teaching through so we can discern whether it’s actually for us. Whether it needs a tweak or whether perhaps, it’s just meant to be someone else’s path to resourcing. There are a million types of rest out there. Rest is active, it’s passive. It’s quite or set to just the right frequency. It’s with your eyes closed or your eyes focused. It’s with your brain engaged or watching. It’s completely up to your body to guide you in the direction of what is your most resourcing action. And it’s your minds job to watch out for the motivation behind it.
The third, is that the timeline between the ending of one thing (one life, way of being, routine, version of normal) and the beginning of the new thing is variable. That’s that messy middle. Undoing the trenched neural patterns takes far more time than we’d like. We are impatient. Like me, wishing, hoping and maybe even believing that I could undo 4.5 years of over functioning, adrenal burnout and nervous system overload in 3 months. Unclenching our body and mind after holding things tightly takes time and it takes everyone through their own timeline. For some of us the denial that there are even patterns to undo will take far longer than the actual letting go of them. For some, the messy middle where both versions of ourselves exists will feel like the most uncomfortable thing in the world. How long can the body, mind and spirit really hold those things simultaneously without overwhelming our system even more? For others, there will be a frozen section of time where the new is visible but not quite graspable. And there is nothing wrong with any of these timelines - there is also nothing we can do through any mental force that will change these timelines.
And that is that. I am firmly sat in the messy middle. There are glimpses of the old life, visions of the new beginning. Parts of me that have unwound and other parts that are clinging. There are ways I find myself passing time that I can firmly say are ways of coping with discomfort. There are others that I can already feel my body thanking me for. No matter where you are right now, you’re there for a reason, moving through your own timeline.
I would invite you to lean into your body, your authority, the wisdom that’s there and find your own version of resourcing and reverent self care so that as you move through the external world your internal world is cared for with the upmost attention and awareness.
I would also invite you to lean into where you are (it doesn’t have to be so grand as the actual area, but maybe the home, maybe the office, maybe the place you spend your weekend). Are those places adding resistance to your life or removing it?
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I also have a tangible invitation for you 💛 Especially after the above reflections + making the choice to study somatic practices (and eventually some more body based modalities) but also because I have a long standing curiosity and respect for the body (I studied it at Uni), my Human Design Forest Path Sessions are moving towards a greater focus on how to actually embody your design and experiment with your authority from the mundane moments to the life changing decisions.
They are also now available to book at any time 🌻 I hope to wander the Forest Path with you and help you discover your own version of a resourced life. Book here ✨