Resisting A Rest

Photo by Adrienne Andersen: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-comforter-set-2387753/

Here are a few things you may be interested to know about me, if you don’t know them already:

I walk fast. I talk fast. I read fast. I write fast, enough to have messy handwriting and an occasionally hurting wrist. I (sometimes) drive fast.

I’m bad at taking breaks, taking deep breaths, and slowing down. I often feel like I should be doing something or thinking (overthinking) if I’m sitting still for more than a moment. I have so many goals and dreams, even if half of it isn’t even possible right now.

I’m well and truly a product of this postmodern world, despite being born a few years B.G. (Before Google). My ego doesn’t want me to pump the brakes because, in a way, doing so would feel like an insult to my capabilities. It sounds weird, but it’s true. “Gotta go fast!” as Sonic the Hedgehog (the namesake of my zippy blue Mazda SUV) would say. Our culture reveres speed and efficiency at just about every level, including in our modern myths (i.e. superheroes).

I have a love/hate relationship with the speed of Western society.

I can generally keep up with everyone else’s fast pace. But that gets exhausting before too long.

I excel at conversation. But many conversations, especially those done in passing, feel too shallow to be meaningful to my empathetic, extrovert heart.

I want deep relationships and activities, but I often find myself in the shallows because the deep water takes more work than the shallow water, and it can feel dangerous. In the deep waters be Shrieking Eels and the real-life thoughts and feelings nobody wants anybody to know they have.

In Western society, people tend to not want to be alone with their thoughts, so they try to outrun them. I’ve been there, and it’s not pleasant, though therapy and about eight years of being a part of a recovery group have made a huge difference for me.

So basically, I keep myself moving, because I often have a nagging feeling that I must.

I resist resting, because it feels counterproductive and socially acceptable. This tendency is so normal that I don’t even realize I’m avoiding slowing down most of the time. Yet I’ve also been reading and listening to a lot of people—authors, influencers, pastors, etc.—who talk about how slowing down is actually more “productive” today than going at a breakneck pace. Life is a long game.

“The grind” is way more taxing than most will admit. Though what else would you expect from a lifestyle that sounds like being worn down like pencil lead or having your cheek pressed into the mud by a taskmaster’s boot?

I move fast, but I don’t want to burn out. Burnout is what awaits people who can’t slow down. Burnout can destroy careers and relationships.

So:

I’m going on vacation in less than a week. It’s a trip that’s been planned since late last year, and I’ve been eagerly anticipating it ever since.

During this time I’ll be unplugging from 90% of my life. I’m loading up on books and notebooks and some pens, and then I’m scarpering.

I won’t be going on social media during this vacation, though I will still be posting on my website next Monday (because it’s a fulfilling activity).

Only a small list of people in my life will be able to text or call me. I’ll probably only look at my email once a day, if that.

I need to experience some things that only come from slowing down. Our world doesn’t like resting, but I know I need to be different.

My mental “police officer” is catching up to me, and I want to stop resisting a rest!

Did I write this blog in part so I could make a pun at the end?

Yes. Yes I did. You’re welcome.