What Do You Do When The Things That Used to Restore You Now Drain You?
I love making croissants. I’ve done it occasionally as a treat for myself for years. And even though it’s a two-day process, there’s something so satisfying about that moment when they come out of the oven, perfectly brown and flaky.
Or at least, there was.
This past week, I did my normal croissant-making process. And sure, it got a little thrown off because I had to take three days rather than two. But that wasn’t the issue. The real issue was that this thing that used to fill me up had become a drain.
Maybe this has happened to you, too?
Maybe that thing you used to love — the knitting, the hiking, baking bread, whatever it was that filled your cup — maybe it’s just not doing it for you anymore. Which feels like the worst kind of double-bind, of course, because if the thing that used to restore you is now draining you, how are you supposed to find something new to restore you, because you can’t fill your cup?
The answer is almost always space.
Space. Time. Just open, unplanned rest. You don’t know how much rest you need, nobody does. And so many of us just keep going until we run that battery completely dry, then we recharge it just enough to turn the phone on again, so to speak, and then keep on going.
This isn’t sustainable. Which I know you know. But if you find yourself avoiding space and rest because you fear that if you start, if you allow yourself to lay down and rest, you’ll never get back up, that’s exactly what you need.
And you will get back up. You won’t just become a slug on a log. In fact, you’ll actually find yourself starting to do things you enjoy just because it occurred to you, and you did them. You might even find yourself doing things that normally drain you without it feeling so heavy. The actions might look similar — but your experience on the inside will be completely different, coming from a place of rest.
Try This:
What’s the smallest possible way you can rest? What’s the tiniest thing that feels good to you? Try to make a practice of noticing the things that make you tilt your head to the side and sigh in contentment.
How else can you fill your cup with something that requires nothing of you? For instance, can you sit in nature, letting yourself feel small and surrounded by the beauty and care of the world? Can you read a book that you truly enjoy, not one you’re “supposed” to? Can you pet your cat?
If you find that your mind can’t relax, that’s OK. It might not be ready to do that. But you may be able to encourage your body to relax, even if your mind is racing. And once that happens, if you can get a tiny little bit of a nervous system shift, the mind will follow.
So much of this is the work I do with people — creating ways to feel better and stay grounded, no matter what’s going on around you. If you’re curious about what that could look like, I’d love to have that conversation. Find out more here.
