The Sick Day

A few weeks ago, I had to take a “sick day”. Having a “sick day” felt strange to me, because the reality is that I just don’t have the luxury of an entire day dedicated to rest and recovery. Not in the middle of the week. Certainly not in the midst of online school.

But I could feel that something wasn’t right in my body. I called the doctor’s office and was grateful to secure an afternoon appointment. But what would I do about the pain and discomfort until then? Well, that’s where the decision that I would take a “sick day” came in. There was no one to report to – I simply made a mental note to myself that I would listen to my body and rest until I was able to see the doctor.

Here comes the lesson: rest is relative.

There is far too much happening within the four walls of our home during a work-from-home/ virtual school term to simply lay in bed for the day. And so, I sat with my littlest love in her virtual class, I helped her understand and upload her assignments, I ensured that my older loves had whatever they needed for a smooth start to their day, I fixed meals as they became required, and I sat on the couch, trying to make myself as comfortable as could be expected in between it all.

It may not have looked like traditional rest, but there was so much more that I could have done. There was so much that I had allowed myself to let go.

Answering every work email… I let it go.

Reviewing the file I brought home from the office… I let it go.

Planning and preparing dinner… I let it go (on the basis that we could later “take it to go”.)

Each time I started to feel anxious for not doing it all, I reminded myself that I was already doing enough. Without caring for myself in those hours leading up to my doctor’s appointment, I knew that I would have made the situation so much worse than it already was. My body was my external clue; its response was a very clear reminder that I needed to stop and to listen to what it was saying.

For some reason, this came to mind a few days later while I was chatting with a loved one. We were catching up on the few weeks since we had last spoken and all that we both had going on.

“I haven’t written anything in a while…” I said during a moment of pause.

“That’s ok,” she replied reassuringly, “you’re already doing a lot.”

I don’t know why, but I felt a weight lift with her words. These words were more than an encouragement, they were a soothing balm to my soul.

I thought about that “sick day” and about how easy it was to show myself grace and compassion for not getting it all done when I had a physical cue in my body. But what about all the other times when it doesn’t manifest that way?

What about the times when the work is heavy and the sleep is light?

What about the times when our troubles roll in with unrelenting blows?

What about the times when things fall apart faster than you could ever try to hold it together?

Because these things don’t always show up in our bodies we don’t see them as cause to pause, but rather as feelings to be stuffed inside and overcome. But the fact that they don’t manifest physically doesn’t make them any less debilitating.

We’ve become so accustomed to harnessing productivity that we don’t allow ourselves to set some things aside. To let some things go. And to be satisfied with doing less, even if just for a time, unless our bodies cry out. (And, even then, it takes a while for us to listen.)

Instead, we push through, mustering all our strength and telling ourselves over and over “I’ll rest when it is all done.”

That’s when it occurred to me: Rest doesn’t have to mean not doing anything. Rest can also mean not doing everything.

By allowing ourselves to set some things aside for a time, we give ourselves the space to truly focus on the things that are the most important.

By being satisfied with doing a little less, we recognise and appreciate all that we are already getting done.

We don’t have to wait until the to-do list is exhausted before we give in to exhaustion.

We don’t have to delay rest until the rest of it is finished.

We can choose to do some things, instead of everything.

So now, I’m determined to listen to more than just my body when it comes to rest. I’m listening to my mind. I’m listening to my heart. I’m listening to my spirit.

Because they all speak. They all let me know when it’s time to step back, even if for a little while. I’m learning that it is possible- no, imperative – to rest and to recover even though there is more to be done.

And if, like me, you find yourself lamenting that you’re struggling and can’t do it all, I have a few soothing words for you:

“That’s ok, you’re already doing a lot.”