Closed for the Season
Hello friend,
Today’s the last full moon of 2022, be accordingly.
I’ll be soaking in her glow with a hike, tea, and a naptime dreaming up the reemergence of my studio (!) in the basement. There will be very little action towards it just yet considering a bout of some virus (not covid) I’m trying to recover from.
Four years ago, I invested in a program that, for the first time, had nothing to do with my professional life. It was the first time in five years of building my design business that I put any profit toward my own wellness. Not student loans, upgraded tech, or studio tools.
For the price I was paying a nutritionist I could purchase a larger hard drive. Or a flight to a design conference, or the design conference itself. I was hesitant, is what I’m saying. Not only did a nutrition program require an upfront cost but it required my commitment; to the process, to learning something new, and most of all a promise to my body that I would change for her. For us.
“I hope to be pregnant.”
Another first — I hadn’t spoken those words out loud to anyone but Joel until my consult with the nutritionist. We discussed it briefly from a health angle before I tucked it back into the folds of my safe inner world again. As if saying it out loud would jinx my chances.
The nutrition reset began as I traveled the nation for an event-planning team. I’ll never forget the plane ride home after a week-long event in Seattle; it was the closest I’ve ever physically been to the moon. Harvest full, like our wedding day.
“I don’t want to be floating above my life”, I told the moon. “I want to be boots on the ground in the thick of it.”
I was pregnant by the next full moon.
This is not a message of dreams coming true. It is a reminder of pace. How fast are you going? Why are you trying to get there so quickly?
For me — I was going at breakneck speed into a brick wall. Of course, I didn’t realize it was a brick wall. I thought it was a career. I thought it was what I always wanted but things kept happening that weren’t clicking into place, regardless of my loyalty toward it. The purpose of our generation is to unlearn the marketing.
Here I am again, reminding myself to check the pace. I didn’t expect to be here when the strenuous work schedule faded. Raising a young child has a way of filling the minutes of each day with an achingly slow place when you’re not used to it. So I’m frustrated; why isn’t my body working at full capacity?! I yell in hot tear moments.
I never kidded myself into thinking raising a child would be less work than past jobs but I didn’t think it would be so hard on my body. Raising our daughter is the most physical, emotional, and mental use of energy I’ve ever invested into anything.
The person this heavy lifting eludes the most is me.
The bright spot of this current struggle between body, spirit, and child-raising is how it leads me to places I enjoy. Places that were a mere background blur in the pace of my 20s as I was trying to keep up with…well, I forget now what or who I was trying to keep up with. Oh, the hindsight revelations I find in the aisle of a used bookshop! The revelations pile up next to my bedside table.
I may not know where I’m going next, but damnit if I’m not reading my way there.
Charles Bukowski’s gravestone reads “Don’t try”. It’s a signal of optimism to other artists in his odd little way. What you’re seeking is seeking you and if it’s not, don’t muscle through what isn’t meant for you.
There are seasons of trying, and seasons of resting.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés shares the necessity for rest in the context of her work with women heavily involved in social activism:
Whatever their idea of respite, even though they’re speaking from abject tiredness and frustration, I say that respite is a good idea, it is time to rest. To which they usually screech, “Rest! How can I rest when the whole world is going to hell right before my very eyes?”
But in the end, a woman must rest now, rock now, regain her focus. She must become younger, recover her energy. She thinks she cannot, but she can, for the circle of women, be they mothers, students, artists, or activists, always closes to fill in for those who go on rest leave. A creative woman has to rest now and return to her intense work later. She has to go see the old woman in the forest, the revivifier, the Wild Woman in one of her many leitmotifs. Wild Woman expects that the animus will wear out on a regular basis. She is not shocked that he falls through her door. She is not shocked when we fall through the door. She is ready. She will not rush to us in a panic. She will just pick us up and hold us till we regain our power again.
And neither should we panic when we lose our momentum or focus. But like her, we must calmly hold the idea and be with it a while. Whether our focus is on self-development, world issues, or relationship doesn’t matter, the animus will wear down. It is not a matter of if, it is a matter of when.[…]
For women, it is best if they understand that at the onset of an endeavor, for women tend to be surprised by fatigue. Then they wail, they mutter, they whisper about failure, inadequacy, and such. No, no. This losing of energy is at it is. It is Nature.
— Women Who Run With the Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés
She thinks she cannot, but she can.
Let this be your season of rest if you need. I’ll meet you there.
Originally sent to newsletter subscribers in December 2022.
