Turning inward

During September I got several signs from the universe to slow down.  And then in early October, another.  And so I listened.  I took to my bed.  For the first week of October I slept.  Oh, wow, did I sleep.  8-9 hours a night, and naps every day.  I was – and still am – exhausted.  I turned inward.  I didn’t write.  I hardly read anything other than magazines.  Mostly I rested in bed, and talked aimlessly to Grace and Whit, and  rested in bed some more.  And I cooked.  I’m doing another cleanse, like the one I did this summer, but this time for a month.  So I have to cook a lot.  I enjoy cooking, so that’s okay, though the confluence of exhaustion with demands to be in the kitchen was a little daunting.

I’m still feeling very inward.  I wonder if I’m contradicting what I just said two days ago, about how we must not hoard our spirit and our love.  But I don’t think I am: I am just saying, to myself, that for now, things need to happen at my cadence.  Which is different than normal.  This past weekend I slept and slept some more.  And I went out with the kids twice – once to go apple picking, and once for a notice-things walk in the blooming fall foliage.  Each time I had to go home and lie down after, so exhausted was I from the physical, emotional, and mental exertion.  But it was gorgeous to be outside.

And, as usual, the words of someone far more articulate and brilliant than I came to my mind:

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. (Thoreau)

Right now, it’s all about the sky, the trees, the leaves, my children, and my bed.  I go out when I need to – for work, for example.  But I am feeling fragile and quiet, bruised and wary, sensitive and somewhat sad.  What is new for me – when I really think about it, astonishing – is that I don’t feel panicked.  I know this is a phase which will pass as surely as the moon waxes and wanes and the tides rise and fall.  So I’m just sinking into it.  Into the blazing evanescence of the red leaves, into the ready embraces of my children, into the white sheets on my bed.  Sinking in.  Turning in.  And it’s okay.

17 thoughts on “Turning inward”

  1. Goodness we are truly soul sisters (and I really hope you don’t mind that I take the liberty of saying so). I am exactly like this, my life follows a similar pattern, when the quiet and the slow just need to take over. I’m not sure I even realized it until just now as I read this post. You offered me a new understanding that I knew but didn’t really know. I hope that that makes sense. I’ve been feeling it for some time, fighting it a bit myself, but generally comfortable with it. Which is new for me too. And I quite like it. I could go on and on on this subject, but for the moment I’m going to sit with this new understanding.

  2. I feel like I did nothing but sleep or rest during the entire month of August. I’ve never done anything like that before, and my husband started to worry about me, but I told him it was just a season of rest for me. I think, maybe not for all human beings, but for enough of us, especially, perhaps, those who write or paint or sculpt or photograph – any who see the world a little differently and more intensely – we need those times of renewal. Exhaustion that is more emotional to begin with, and translates to physical and mental, seems perfectly understandable to me.

  3. Oh thank you so much for writing this post. I am feeling so similar and I am fighting it every day. Thank you for giving me permission to just lie down.

  4. Beautifully said, Lindsey.

    I’m there, too, and know many others who are feeling the need to slow it down lately.

    And yes, it’s ok. Maybe more than ok. Maybe it’s really good.

    Love to you, and thanks.

  5. Yep, this turning inward…resonates w/ me too. i went on a silent retreat last weekend…first in a long long time. fall and winter, naturally, draw me inward…back to hearth and home…literally (making soups and breads) and figuratively (into my poetry, heart). you are in good company!

  6. This is the time of year where we all need to trust in the phases of the sun. it is a time of reflection, where would we be without the beautiful still water and the coloured leaves which remind us just how colourful and precious life is. You are NOT Hoarding anything… you are gathering yourself ,readying for the long cold. the summer has been busy, the winter seems,as we get older to NEVER let up, so gather and don’t be hard on yourself. There is a time for giving and doing and a time for renewing YOURSELF for others. Take care and BE .. silent…. changable and at ease in the last warm rays of the sun!

  7. Oh, chica, it is far, far better than okay. It is glorious. Authentic self-care is the best gift we can give ourselves and, by direct and tangible extension, those we love.

  8. Yes I too have been waiting to turn the clocks back!!! I know how you feel! I speed skate every morning at 5am in a parking lot at the ocean here in Easthampton, NY and speed skating in the twilight is Hazardous to your health! (I wipe out on pebbles & shells ) I’ve been kind of down these last 4 days because the sky has been so overcast & dark I couldn’t skate- If I wait too long for the light to appear I won’t get in a full workout before I have to get back home & get my 9 year old up for school . There is no other time to skate as the coffee & newspaper crowd show up in the parking lot around 6:10 and block my swept pathway! When we turn the clocks back I will be thinking of you out there in the fresh air greeting the sunrise!!! I too need this workout for my mental health!!!! Rock on!!!!

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