On running it back...

Digging into the archives because I desperately need this reminder, and I'm wondering if maybe I'm not alone.

This was the first real piece I posted on Substack back in the late-summer of 2023. And although that potty-training toddler is now a full-blown kid, the truth remains the same. As does my need to be reminded of it. Especially during re-entry to real life and routine after a week away.

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This has been one of those weeks where I’ve had to remind myself before bed to take some deep breaths because I haven’t done so all day. Just one of those weeks where my mental load feels heavier than an elephant on top of a dump truck on top of a… I’m really trying to think of something clever here, but it’s not happening, so I’ll just stop and assume you get my point.

Everything feels urgent and important and necessary - revising our budget, researching the best supplements, meal-planning and lunch-packing and exercising and teaching my child kindness and respect and reading and organizing closets and picking up toys and walking the dog and writing and laundry and keeping up with everyone and everything all at once and perfectly.

The list is always there, right? But some weeks, it feels less loud.

Our mental loads come from the fact that everything in this world requires maintenance. Our bodies, our homes, our families, our relationships, our work, our hobbies, everything. There is constant upkeep in this world. Never-ending maintenance means never-smaller mental loads.

For me, never-ending translates to never enough. That thought feels as steady as my heartbeat some days. Never enough, never enough, never enough. I’m not enough. What I’m doing is not enough. I will never be or do enough.

And the truth is, there will always be more to do. We could always be doing more and more and more and more, in every area of life. Never-ending maintenance, right? There’s always more to be done and always will be.

So what do we do? Do we let that steady beat of never enough, never enough, never enough drive our days and steal our joy and suck our souls dry until we just dissolve into dust? I mean, I guess we could, but let’s pinky-promise not to let one another do that, ok?

What’s the alternative, then?

We stop.

Not forever and not in a way that forsakes all responsibility or leaves our loved ones feeling abandoned and neglected. But we stop for a day and in a way that allows us to look at our responsibilities with fresh perspective and at our loved ones with fresh gratitude.

We stop in a way that allows us to feel wonder, foster connection, and be filled with hope. Not because everything is done but because it never will be, and we are meant to find freedom in that truth.

We stop to rest and rejoice in what is, instead of ruminating on what isn’t.

In Mo Willems book, Time to Pee! (which I’ll never not be able to recite from memory because of the countless times I read it to my toddler on the potty last summer), he writes: “Everything will still be right where it was.”

(Which is maybe a more comforting truth to a kid returning to make believe than a grown-up returning to maintenance, but the truth remains.)

Yes, I wear indoor Crocs because they feel good on my feet, ok?!

And you know, the more I think about it, stopping to rest is actually a lot like stopping for a potty break. It’s about paying attention to our bodies, listening to our bodies, and honoring our bodies by giving them what they need. Our bodies are not shy. Our bodies ask for what we need; but we have to pay attention, listen, and respond.

I know my body is begging for rest when my mental load feels heavier than an elephant on top of a dump truck on top of a… boatload of bowling balls (??? - still taking suggestions for a better ending to that list), when the steady beat of never enough, never enough, never enough is deafening and disorienting.

And just like taking a potty break actually makes the play more fun when you come back (because you’re not distracted and dancing around and doing everything to ignore your body’s not-so-subtle ask), stopping to rest actually makes the maintenance more enjoyable when you come back too.

Ignoring our bodies’ need to rest is like ignoring our bodies’ need to pee.

We can’t hold it in forever. We can’t hold everything all the time. We’ve got to let it out. We’ve got to let it go. And the relief of rest will make our loads feel much lighter when we do pick them up again.

I can step away and stop for a day. You can step away and stop for a day. We can choose to pay attention, listen, and respond. We can choose to stop and rest.

We can rest and rejoice in what is, instead of ruminating on what isn’t.

Everything will still be right where it was. And if not, that’s ok too.