Something I’m often surprised by (although I shouldn’t be) is how tired I find myself some days. It’s not full-blown fatigue like I experienced in the postpartum days, nor is an inability to function or get out of bed. It’s just a little whisper in the back of my mind, reminding myself I could do so much better with a nap.
And a nap, as it turns out, is one of the creativity tools I can’t live without, especially lately.
My nap glory days were in college. A flexible course schedule often left afternoons free a couple of times per week, and my body had no problem powering down in the middle of the day and being more carefree. But with age has come added responsibilities, awareness, increased anxiety, and mental overwhelm. Even now, when I’ve worked so hard to undo and heal some unresolved childhood issues, and we’ve set up our life in a way that offers me more spaciousness than I’ve ever known, I haven’t suddenly morphed into a blissed-out, peaceful version of myself. Like all of us, I remain a work in progress.
In the middle of June, right before heading off on a family vacation, I had one of those days when I gave myself a hard time, feeling like after six months of life in our new home and new state, I should have a better handle on my time and energy.
It was a Sunday, and we ended up doing lots of things around the house like washing the cars, planting more kale, and hoisting a hammock between two sturdy trees. The previous owners had left the hooks, and ever since we moved in during winter, I fantasized about our future hammock.
I knew from the moment I woke up after an odd dream and restless sleep, I needed yoga nidra. So after lunch, while my husband and son set off on their scooters, I took a 15 minute yoga nidra nap. Afterwards, I lingered in bed, enjoying some quiet and the restoration.
Later that afternoon I headed to the kitchen to make pistachio blondies, and as I placed dirty dishes in the sink, I kept looking out at the hammock. I felt a longing, so badly wanting to look up at the trees, to close my eyes, to sway. So I left the dishes and listened to the call. I brought my journal and sorted through a few things.
Why is this so difficult to do?
Why do we let the ‘shoulds’ dictate our days instead of acting in our own impulses?
These are the questions that have been on my mind this season.
Thankfully, my yoga nidra practice helps orient me back to my inner compass, and for that, I’m grateful.