For the past few days, I’ve been waking up thinking, ‘maybe I’ll write today’, but then I haven’t been able to. That’s partly because I have been resting after Christmas (BOO), (Christmas always seems to result in M.E. ‘payback’ worsening of symptoms, even when I’ve been super-careful), and partly because I’ve been catching up with friends in person or via Skype after Christmas (YAY). What with all the talking and resting there hasn’t been a lot of room for writing.
So this isn’t a real blog post, just a message to say hello, and I’m still here, and watching spiders hover in mid-air as they make their webs on the other side of the window, listening to bird song, exploring Spotify, and admiring the new painting I got given for Christmas. I have words coming, they’re trickling through, and I’ve begun to re-look at my work-in-progress (my book on my experience of M.E.) and I have four A3 sheets of paper full of sticky notes to prove it.
I’ve been fretting about my blog growing saggy and sloppy because I haven’t been able to blog as consistently as I’d like. (I know, I know – that’s crazy-talk, right? Right??) I know in my head it’s okay to take a break, but it’s still hard. It can be hard to heed that call when the rest of the world is doing All The Things, and I want to join in and do All The Things as well.
Writers like to use grand images to talk about our work, “I’m not sitting hunched over a screen generating more words, I’m creating worlds! I’m crafting a masterpiece from dust! I’m in a war, battling the greatest of enemies: myself! I’m slaying the dragons of silence!” because, let’s face it, writing doesn’t sound as glamorous or important as, say, open heart surgery.
I find it hard to know when it’s ‘resting’ and when it’s ‘resistance’.
I find it hard to know when to know if I’m feeling lethargic because the demons are whispering that I have nothing to share with the world, or if I’m feeling lethargic because my body is whispering that it needs longer to recover. In the past, I would push myself to Do, I would swing a sword round whether I knew there were demons or not, but after seventeen years of chronic illness, I am finally getting better at erring on the side of caution.
Right now, I am aware that it may be even be a bit of both, resistance and resting-requirement together. I am compromising. Today I have fifteen minutes, so this will be fifteen minutes’ worth. It’s nothing particularly earth-shattering to share with the world. (But I’m writing it anyway). And then I will return to Spotify and slow breathing.
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I have been pretty good at resting well, these past few days. Sometimes I feel like I’m idling, floating directionless, and it frustrates me. But a friend recently said the word ‘cocooning’ to me, and I’m holding onto that word. A cocoon looks lifeless and dry, but it is the storehouse of new life.
When Mary was visited by angels, she stored up all those things and treasured them up in her heart. She cocooned, and wrapped up all those promises around her like a brown paper blanket, ready to burst open at the right time. I think I’ll try that too. I am cocooning.
Over to you:
- How do you decide when it’s ‘rest-requirement’ and when it’s ‘resistance’?
- What do you think about the idea of cocooning?
Lasty week I took my granddaughter to a buterfly sanctuary. I saw the cocoons as well as the larva and the caterpillars and finally the buterflys. The buterflys rest as well. I had one resting on my shoulder for about an hour.
We watched the buterflys emerge from the cocoons. Now that was work. But the natural urges take the buterflys through the cycle of life and I’m sure you’re good instincts will tell you when to break out of the cocoon and when to store up food and when to rest. I enjoy reading your words
Newell
Oo – I loved reading all this!, thank you.
The butterflies rest, too.
I will need to remember this, I think.
Good to hear from you on here again. I really enjoy reading your relfections and love the sense of community around your blog.
Thank you
Thanks, Juliet! It’s really nice getting to know you. đŸ™‚
Yes. Me too.
Xx
Tanya,
Thanks for this, “I find it hard to know when it’s ‘resting’ and when it’s ‘resistance’. I too sometimes struggle with overwhelming fatigue. I have cerebral palsy and when I over extend myself, I pay for it, sometimes for days.
I don’t know the answer to your question, I wish I did, but I am learning that it is detrimental to resist rest. That’s when things really start to fall apart.
I’m learning how to make more time for rest, to accept that rest is not defeat, and to make room for Sabbath.
May you find He restores your soul.
Jenny
“I am learning that it is detrimental to resist rest.” Me too, me too. Very slowly learning. But it’s so counter cultural, isn’t it? Thanks so much for sharing of your experience here.
I had a friend who used to say “too much of anything leads to discipline.” I liked to believe that. He was at the party with Janice Joplin the night she died, so that somehow gave this saying some authority – not sure why. But I have generally found it true.
A wise saying (and woah! at the party with Janis Joplin…that’s all kinds of cool).
As an introvert I always think rest means solitude, but I’m learning that a good cocoon lets others in too. I love how you describe it: looking lifeless and empty, but actually bringing new life. A great picture to hold onto.
Thanks, lovely Emma! (As an extrovert, I always think rest means having replenishment with friends… But maybe rest wouldn’t actually look that different for us – cocooning with a select few!) Thanks for your encouragement – I also really liked the word when I heard it!
You wrote quite a lot there so well done for that. I’ve been the same since Christmas. Just chatting to friends and family is so tiring for us M.E. sufferers but I watched a good documentary about our body clocks presented by Terry Wogan. Not that I have problems sleeping, quite the opposite, I sleep for 13 hours each night. Not a nice sleep but more like unconscious with nightmares. Anyway Terry Wogan had a light meter, in what he thought was a naturally well lit room. It scored 50+ he then went outside on what was a cloudy day and it scored 1000+ So now (I have explained to some of the neighbours that I’m no more crazy than usual). I take a hot drink, wrap up in coat, hat, scaft and gloves and sit outside on a towel (because the garden bench is wet). I stay there for 15 mins. breathing in the fresh air and natural sunlight. It’s good to watch the world go by, say hello to the occasional passer by and also pray. I think it’s helping me to remember I am still part of the human race. I hope your strength is back to `normal for you’ soon. God bless. Tricia xx
Woah – what a difference with the light meter thing! I always enjoy sitting out in the garden when I can – you’re right, there is something about being outside that is different, and whole-some/healthsome.
Hope your sleep-quality somehow improves….? Thinking of you.
Thank you