This year has been an exhausting one.
I have been buried under an avalanche of bad news: the near death of one family member, the actual death of another, a work contract going sour due to toxic culture, and other more minor things that, by themselves, were irritants but still served to draw off energy that aforementioned crises had left in short supply.
It was a year of shock, grief, and some anger. My resilience and ability to stay grounded were tested although, as I write this, I do feel sane enough. This was a year about survival, not rapid progression, but some years are just like that.
For some time now I have been interested in resilience, and how to embed it in a practice. 2019 gave me ample opportunity to take mental notes on how to stay resilient, and what undermines this. Other people’s bullshit – never welcome for any of us – was particularly hard for me to bear; my friends’ kindness and loyalty continued to be a blessing.
My own ability to process, analyse, and gain some perspective did stand up to the test, but it was a severe test and there were many days when I knew better than to leave the house and inflict myself on other members of the human race. Or to allow them to inflict themselves on me.
Among the things that helped me have some degree of resilience – among them my creative practice, and my grieving process – was a strong sense of self-awareness, especially around my own energy levels. The feelings of fatigue following my Mother’s death, especially, were off the chart, but dealing with exhaustion has been a general and ongoing challenge during the whole of this year.
Along with being interested in resilience, I have also long (even before this year) been interested in exhaustion and how it can affect a person’s creativity, whether that is in terms of an effect on quality of work or quality of relationship between one-self and one’s own creative identity. These are subjects for other blogs.
The point I want to finish on in this blog is about the necessity of doing nothing much from time to time. As we go into the traditional western holiday season over Christmas, I am getting quietly excited about having a dull vacation. I long to do nothing and to be impacted by nothing. I long to rest.
“Original sense seems to be a measure of distance (compare Old High German rasta, which in addition to “rest” meant “league of miles,” Old Norse rost “league, distance after which one rests,” Gothic rasta “mile, stage of a journey”), perhaps a word from the nomadic period.”
So, rest is something you do after a period of journeying, of travailing.
The etymology of the word holiday is not surprising, as it originally meant what it sounds like: a special holy day, a day set aside for honouring the sacred.
We live in a world where busyness, scurrying, bustling, and striving are expected, even valorised. But too much frantic activity, resulting in exhaustion and a drawing off of energy and freshness, is bad for mind body and soul. The wellsprings of creativity and empathy can run dry.
Rest and rejuvenation are essential. Thinking about having a holiday can conjure images of lying by the pool and drinking sticky drinks out of a coconut. For me, this year, it will involve going to a small country town and reading books. Regardless of how your break looks to you – fun, restful, entertaining, exotic – if it truly rejuvenates you then consider it as sacred as well.
Thank you for reading my blog.
I wish you a Merry Christmas, whatever that looks like to you, and a safe, abundant, Happy New Year.