Rest to Renew

There was one clear message that I kept receiving when I first left the classroom back in 2021, “Rest and Heal”.  It made so much sense to me to just let go and take some time to rest for a little while after so many years of running on empty and pouring out more than I had to give.  What I didn’t understand at the time was just how hard it would be to actually learn to rest properly in order to heal.

The first week was the easiest, I was camping and out in nature with my family.  When I tell you that I just sat for that entire week, I mean that aside from preparing meals and tidying up after them, I literally just sat.  Whether it was in my little chair by the fire, attempting to read a book, chatting with my kids while watching nature, or playing cards at the picnic table there was very little else I felt compelled to do.  Usually when we go camping I love the extra walking involved in our time out in the woods…this trip had very little of that.  Even my kids felt the desire to rest and had ample time in their hammocks.  We felt good, we breathed fresh air, and we rested.  Afterwards the kids felt energized, I still felt like sitting.  

So I sat some more that trip. I sat by duck ponds and communed with ducks.  I sat by the lake near the boardwalk with no desire to walk around all the cute little shops that would have usually brought me excitement to be inside of.  I sat and I sat and I sat.  I realized I needed a break from the whole world it seemed and I gave myself that trip to feel it. It felt good, like medicine for my soul.

Then, when we returned home, I put my duty and responsibility cloak back on and went back to the business of being a wife, mom, student, and homemaker.  I believed that I had sat enough and without the added responsibility of teaching, I would relax into the next thing for me and go about life as usual.  Although I felt better and could breathe deeper, I still wasn’t heeding the urge from my inner guidance to continue to “Rest and Heal”.  At the time, I had no real understanding of exactly how “fried” my nervous system had gotten after decades of stress, responsibility, and the pressures of living in our conditioned society.  I was just happy to be free of some of it.

I went about my days making sure the house was clean, meals were prepared, the dog got walked, my body exercised, I read something new, and I did something I enjoyed for myself.  All things done with an open heart and a slower pace but still with a to-do list mentality of making sure I was fulfilling a role, a role with expectations that no one even put on me.  I did it all to myself.  So after a few months of not really listening to the recommendation of my soul, the universe stepped in and attempted to control the situation.

During a fun weekend outing to a zipline place I had visited before, on my last descent of the visit, I injured my foot.  I was able to walk on it, but not without wincing pain.  It was a trivial injury, nothing major and it got better with ice and elevation.  A simple sprain I assumed.  So I rested it to heal it for a few days and then I seemed well enough to go back to business as usual.  I let that little injury go unchecked because I was capable of functioning on it.  What I have learned in hindsight though, is that just because you are capable of something, does not mean you are supposed to be doing it.  

When my foot still didn't feel quite right after a month or so, I brought it to a Dr.'s attention who told me it was probably “bedroom toe” and that x-rays wouldn’t show anything wrong, but I might have some relief with a boot and taking time off of it.  So that’s what I did.  I went about my day doing much less, but not completely sitting still.  The boot made it comfortable enough to continue with many of my daily tasks, but I felt so guilty for not exercising and walking my pup.  Other people in the house attempted this task on my behalf, but my cute little guy just didn’t like to go very far without me, so I would put on the boot and go out and take him.  For the most part, my injury felt better unless I walked for an extended period of time, at a faster pace than I wanted, or drove on it for longer than a trip around town.

The truth is that what I really suffered from was the realization that I needed to feel useful and have purpose.  I did not understand my worth for just being me.  I have this hardwired belief that I need to perform to earn rest and that if I’m not doing something then I am somehow less than.  The fact that I had also left my career and had no notion of what to do next with my time in order to earn financially for my family tied in so closely to all of these feelings that I became particularly reluctant to just sit around and “let” others take care of me and do “my” chores that what should have taken a few weeks or months to heal, ended up lasting years.

About nine months after the initial injury I ended up going to a specialist.  The first Dr. was right, nothing showed up on x-rays or an MRI aside from some inflammation.  The kind podiatrist spent the next nine months trying every trick in the book before we finally decided on surgery.  Those nine months were not full of rest and healing either.  I filled that time with classes, home renovation/improvement projects, even adopting a rescue dog.  In addition to my regular “chores”,  I’m embarrassed to admit,  we even took several short hiking trips as well as a 5 day theme park adventure. 

During our trial and error period, we even attempted to cast it for a few weeks so I would finally rest it properly.  My sweet son, who watched me struggle on crutches while my sweet little pups flanked their “alpha” mama,  went and “won” me a “peg leg” on eBay.  Within days my pirate butt was up and about “doing” for little bursts throughout my time in the cast too.

When I finally went for surgery that spring, it was discovered that I had actually broken my fifth metatarsal and am now the proud owner of three screws in my right foot (a dancer's fracture).  The fact that I spent 18 months bustling about on a broken foot was not lost on me, but the lesson for this ex-school teacher was never about how strong I can be, that was never in debate, I am an incredibly strong and resilient person.  What I should have been learning was to rest and heal.  Yet vulnerability was never my strongest subject, so the lesson continued.

The next challenge the universe sent me started with a pain in my side.  This time I did not wait to see a Dr., but after 2 ultrasounds showed nothing to be wrong, the Dr. dropped it and so did I.  Then after another trip filled with a ton of walking my hips began screaming at me.  Being on the cusp of middle age, I thought I might be showing signs of early arthritis, so back to the Dr. I went.  Some x-rays of my hip showed that was not the case, but in a side x-ray that was taken for posterity, it was discovered that 2 of my lower vertebrae had collapsed.  I had been trucking along on a “broken back” for who even knows how long??? 

Spondylolisthesis, my next more permanent adventure!  This one hit me differently, I had to go through a grieving process.  I was unsure of what my body would be or could be capable of going forward.  Turns out (for now, at least), mostly a new exercise regime with more core training, less stress on my back, and allowing others to, pardon my pun, “pick up” my slack.   

Without getting too far off the rails and dragging this post on longer than it needs to, it has taken me the better part of this past year to finally “sit with” this diagnosis and give myself real actual rest.  Then, once I was ready, to work with my body to listen to it better, because it knows me better than my ego self does.  It took a lot of sitting in stillness to think about what I was really afraid of and work on releasing at least some of it.  It took beginning to write these posts and let myself learn to understand myself and what was going on in my world better.  It took practicing somatic yoga, with its more gentle rocking movements, to release some of the unhealed and trapped emotional energy I had been carrying for most of my life.  It took being brave enough to actually post these musings instead of letting them sit in a publish later draft box to feel like I have a piece of my voice out in the world and “sit” with that energy to learn that I am still me, even though some of me is out here in the interwebs.  I remain unchanged…well aside from all the “change”.

These small acts have been working together to help heal my emotional, physical, mental, and  spiritual wellness.  Today I share this from a place where I am not completely rested, even with my sleep mask and ear plugs, or even completely healed.  That day may never come for me.  But I am learning to share my burdens, my weaknesses, and more of mySelf with others.  Somehow that helps.  I feel stronger, freer, and more open.  I have less worry and care than I can remember in a very long time.  And when my body asks me to stop and rest, I do…when it says, get up and move, I do…when it pleads for me to close the book and go to sleep, I try. 😉