I decided to give myself the gift of a five-day weekend instead of a four-day one, as I just needed it.
I am pretty good at dropping everything when it comes to self-care and, at the same time, aware that it takes conscious effort to drop from a running train to a sudden halt on the platform. Actually, this is a great analogy – if you have had to get off a running train or hop on a running train, you can relate to my anxiety around taking a vacation and then hopping back onto the bandwagon. Your heart is beating fast when your right leg dangles over the platform, which is sliding right under your eyes – and then when you do get off – you have to keep running until you can come to a halt. That’s precisely what it is to take a vacation from work for only five days. It usually takes your body a minimum of ten days to fully relax, so since this was a crunched holiday, I had to take active steps to transition from running to a halt instead of letting it happen naturally. I went for a brisk walk on a cold morning and cocooned myself with a warm blanket, chai and tons of books.
I read three books and still have one more day to go. But my heart is beating fast as I think about jumping back on the train. Once I am back on the train, then it’s business as usual, but initially, getting on is always scary. Now, the advice that I give other people is that reality is always kinder than thoughts – and it is always nice to take a complete break so that you can look at things with a fresh perspective when you get back on the train.
I want to acknowledge in this blog and tell myself – Good Job on the last few months. I know that it was/is tough. There were times when it was just too difficult. It required me to be equanimous and aware at all times. Yes, it was not easy. It was trying at times, almost when I just wanted to cry. Sometimes, I had to dig deep to dredge that small amount of energy to keep going. I want to acknowledge and say GOOD JOB. I want to be kind to myself and tell myself that it’s okay; it’s tough but okay. I will not offer any encouragement or positive words or make it better. But just tell me that I hear and see myself. I see my hard work, which has taken a toll somewhere. This is my attempt at listening to myself. It feels forced and awkward, and I am unsure if I am using the right words, but this feels right. I want to hug myself until I go limp like a sack of potatoes.
Even as I write this, there is a part of myself which is clamping down its mouth from giving advice to make the pain go away. The voice is reasonable and tells me that the universe is friendly and will provide me with anything I cannot handle. And this is the next level of spiritual practice that I am ready for – practice makes perfect.
But I will acknowledge that the last few months have not been easy. And let my empathy do the rest as it flows to me. What do you need to admit to yourself right now?