I’ve been struggling with self-care. I moved back to Colorado in December 2020 and immediately jumped into a full-time job. It was the dead of winter, and the thermometer goes below zero often in the world’s largest high mountain valley (elevation 7700′). I looked for an exercise class – my go-to because I just have to show up – but could find nothing. I did walk occasionally, but not enough to obtain a level of fitness that maintains a good energy level.
Then an unexpected second job change into a position where there were significant problems I had to unravel – and fast. Long story short, I’ve watched my energy wain, and I frequently arrive home and can only think about eating and vegging out with Netflix.
I needed to establish a routine and stick with it no matter what. My creativity and innovation powers have waned with the lethargy of inactivity. I had ten excellent reasons why I couldn’t exercise. I also couldn’t find the energy to do much more than work and veg. My body was sending out not-so-subtle messages that it required daily heart rate increases and strength training. (not to mention Yin Yoga sessions – my happy place).
I had laid the groundwork – my former Yin Yoga teacher made me a library of tapes to use since I now have no access to classes. I bought a bench and weights. I already have what I need to walk – feet, shoes, and my Nordic walking poles. I didn’t want to do it.
So I sat with the resistance. My body told me that I have had to deal with a lot of overwhelm these last few years, and I was exhausted. It also told me to stop trying to solve everything all at once (my weakness – I want to fix everything now!).
And giving myself a heavy dose of self-compassion was in order. I tend to be relentlessly critical of my weaknesses and failings (enneagram one), and that trait is a creativity stifler. Little by little, bit by bit, with love and appreciation seemed the best way to navigate back to better health.
Yesterday I went out for a walk that would not be four miles (my usual length), where I allowed myself to turn back at any point and walk as slowly as I wanted. It turns out that my body wanted to go fairly quickly but not so far. I got my heart rate up and felt like I had pushed myself a little bit.
“The secret of getting ahead is getting started. The secret to getting started is breaking your overwhelming tasks into small manageable tasks, and then starting on the first one.”— Mark Twain
Along the way, I passed a man about my age who was headed in the same direction as I was, only with a cane and a labored gait. It looked like walking didn’t come easy for him. We exchanged greetings, and he said, “I’m glad I’m not racing you!” I said what I need to hear, “We do as much as we can when we can do it.”
“To accept ourselves as we are means to value our imperfections as much as our perfections.”— Sandra Bierig
The advantage of this “little by little, bit by bit” strategy that this man was practicing is that we progress and can do it with more lasting results. I returned to my house without feeling exhausted when I do too much or push too hard. (I’m very good at doing too much and trying too hard; it just doesn’t work so well).
“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep, loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
This is a big lesson for those of us who suffer from perfectionism. This man was out walking even though his body struggled. And my bet is it made him feel better and was healing. Walking makes me feel better. But I had at least ten good excuses for not having the time. He made the time. I finally did. Both of us get the same benefits no matter how fast we walk. This metaphor can be applied to everything we do.
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash
