Journal, May 2: Settling

i’ve given myself a moratorium on books. as in, starting today, i am closed to further input. i have read myself into a frenzy of “should” and “need to” and “why am i not,” and i’ve realized that it’s because i haven’t given myself any down time to process the input. a continuous diet of new fare does not result in an automatic new life; it results in discomfort, and a bit of mental crises, honestly. there are 8k things i’m NOT doing. add in the 12k things i’m doing incorrectly, or half-assedly, and that’s just so much guilt on these hunched shoulders anyway. i just can’t.

i am not religious, but i speed-read jen hatmaker’s simple + free, skimming bible references (i knew these). it lit a fire under me not because the ideas are new, but because my energy to send toward these ideas has dwindled. in my journal i wrote:

“I just keep adding more more more in the same lane: what i eat, screens, ‘rules,’ volunteering/care for the poor, greener living + simplifying. these are my mountains.”

i want so much for my life, but i’m uncomfortable with the idea that i should always be reaching. is this acceptable? will i ever just… BE? i struggle with knowing that i am enough but never acting quite like it’s true. a non-religious parallel to never feeling saved as a young christian? hmm.

today i am breathing into the idea of letting all the myriad input settle. in the past, i called this “no season,” and i’ve written about it for “real” outlets because the idea of saying no to input isn’t a popular one. i think after all the covid standstill, i – knowing better – raced into the world, ready to eat up whatever life handed me. food, friends, activity, bustle! it wasn’t working for me before, but i rushed in anyway. because this is a lesson i learn seasonally, and on repeat.

stop! my brain is shouting, as i want to lie down after a long day of talking with people. stop! my body feels so tense + hardly my own after wrapping another book with practical suggestions i know i can’t act on right now, if ever. stop! my kids yell at me for planning too many things in one week.

i’m closed for input, for this season, ready to digest what i know, deep in my bones.