I awoke way earlier than I wanted to for a Saturday morning. As I lay there hoping I would be able to sleep a few more hours, I noticed it was cloudy outside. That realization came with a deep sigh of relief and a letting-go of tension that I hadn’t known I was holding onto.
With summer in full swing, I’m savoring afternoons at the beach, the feel of sun kissed skin and the ease of throwing on lightweight summer clothes and sandals every morning. But the sun also has the power to overwhelm and drain me. The constant unfiltered bright light inevitably becomes too much for me to absorb. By the end of each hot day, the air feels oppressive and overwhelming. Waking up to cloudy skies and cool breezes this morning was a break from all of that: the glare, the temperature, the ‘too-muchness’ of it all.
Yesterday I went blackberry picking. I was prepared for hot work and thorns, but I wasn’t prepared for how drained it left me feeling. After traveling out of the city to the farm with a car full of people, picking berries in the heat of the day, and meandering our way home, I arrived back in the city immovably exhausted, and terribly overwhelmed. It took me a while to suss out what exactly had me feeling so off kilter, as the blackberry gathering had been a success and the company of those I had traveled with had been excellent. But picking berries from wild, unkempt and inhospitable bushes, near a noisy highway, in the very hottest part of the day left my skin stinging from the sun and all of the thorn-pricks. The social nature of the day left me running on empty, having not had space for this introverted soul to take a breath in some secluded place and find my balance to see me through the rest of the day.
Presently I’m in a season of learning to sit with that which makes me uncomfortable. Instead of panicking from overwhelm, or feeling discouraged and desirous of escaping it, I’m learning to be fully in it, to turn it into a meditative practice and keep putting one foot in front of another. I found that place in the thicket of blackberry bushes yesterday: feeling the sting of the heat and the thorns, accepting it, and picking one ripe fruit after another. With a history of facing challenges with anxiety and overwhelm, I celebrate each time I choose acceptance instead. The blackberries were a win for me. Another opportunity for growth.
But as I’m learning this new way to be, I need to remember that I also need space to recuperate from times such as these. Being in groups for any sustained period of time is always draining for me. Facing challenges head-on and staying in a healthy brain-space is still new to me and takes focus, energy and effort. This all necessitates quiet recuperative time afterwards. So still in a place of confusion and distress yesterday evening, not able to articulate what I needed, I called off any other plans for the evening and through Saturday morning, and retreated into myself. A cool shower alleviated some physical discomfort, and an evening of drawing and reflecting and dancing alleviated some mental discomfort. By then, I was more than willing to fall right to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and to sleep for as long as my body would let me.
So when I woke up at 6 this morning, I was rather disappointed. But I noticed the cloudy blanket outside my window and felt myself relax. In and out of sleep over the next 3.5 hours, I saw the clouds and sun dance in and out with one another, enough of a compromise of bright and muted to remind me that life isn’t always only overwhelm… that there’s peace to be had too. I’ll be spending the rest of my morning in silence, with the shades drawn, working on some project or another, and perhaps taking a nap before I have to go out this afternoon. By then, I suspect I’ll be better prepared to enjoy the sunshine and the company of others again.