Thursday, January 17, 2008 at 1:01am
Good God, I'm tired
Column: wavelength
It's January, and here I am surrounded by all that focused, driven and goal-directed energy of the new year. Calendar pages are cracked open with the glee of taking apart a new package; every minute is an opportunity for self-improvement. The atmosphere is charged with can-do and let's-go attitudes. The air is rife with intentions and dreams, aspirations and visions. The thought of such motivation and directions exhausts me. I'd better sit down.
The local gyms pepper me with special offers to raise my heart rate and tone up my flab; the diet factories promise a new me after months of cardboard food. The health enthusiasts tell me to cleanse my system, eat organic and up my supplements. Some nutritionists suggest more green drinks, others no sugar. The spiritual groups tell me to intend away, think positively and meditate daily. All to the good, but the thought of any of the aforementioned further enervates me.
You see, I am tired — not just your plain I-have-overworked-and-need-a-weekend-to-recoup tired or your basic come-play-with-me-Britney-Spears-life-drama fatigue - I am bone weary. The well has been tapped dry; my inner reservoir holds only a few dust motes. There is nothing left. The adrenals are stretched; the thyroid is tapped. I have reached clunk — with a resounding thud.
I feel like a car on a cold winter morning as it tries to turn over and make contact. R-r-r-r. R-r-r-r. The engine spits and sputters as it tries to connect.
Heretofore, I have been likened to the Energizer Bunny. I could go and go and go. Now, I am lucky to manage half a go. I could tell you this is age or lifestyle, and there would be some truth to that. You can demand so much of a system and ignore so many of its flashing warning lights before the system crashes and requires a major overhaul.
It's like the Chinese proverb "When things reach their limit; they are forced to bounce back." And often, that is the case.
However, I am prone to think along the lines of Carl Jung, who said that every problem after the age of 40 is a spiritual problem. I don't believe that Jung was discounting the reality of health challenges, lifestyle choices and the juggernaut of stress we 21st century humans regularly juggle. I do think, though, that Jung was doing his Jung thing, which was to delve deeper and dig below the surface to discern a more potent etiology.
What could be spiritual about the Big Exhaustion?
I think when you reach that no-energy place, and have no other choice but to stop, rest and do nothing, you are faced with some pretty big questions.
"How did you get there?" would be an obvious first question. It is scary to find yourself without the energetic wherewithal to get up and go, to do and complete. Most certainly, there can be health concerns, but let's go further in an "and and" kind of way and understand there are many layers and many contributing factors to the Big Exhaustion.
Let's look at energy: energy in; energy out. Like a teeter-totter, you go up and you go down. Ultimately, the ideal is found in balance, that elusive seven-letter word. Energy is the same way; we expend energy through our daily dealings and activities as well as our worries and fears. We take in energy through play, heartwarming connections, creativity, satisfying work, prayer and the like. In other words, those activities, relationships and inner thoughts that feed us, enliven us and enlighten us are energy-giving and restorative; whereas, those that drain us also deplete our energetic reserves.
It becomes a matter of personal mathematics; we need to compare our energy debits with our energy deposits. More than likely, some course corrections will be indicated, such as creating new boundaries, saying "no," being quiet and learning to put yourself first.
But the query "What purpose does this Big Exhaustion serve?" is my kind of question. It goes right for the jugular.
Big Exhaustion forces us to stop. There is no longer choice; we have arrived at clunk. We are forced to be still. We cannot use busyness to keep us from dealing with our Best Selves and the soul work we are here to do.
Big Exhaustion serves as a powerful teacher.
For some, it is a reminder that the inner spirit is far stronger than the physical structure. Unto itself, Big Exhaustion can become a soul path.
You remember the phrase — I believe it came from World War I — that there are no atheists in foxholes. Well, when the Big Exhaustion comes, we often turn to God and say, "Help!" And God smiles because a) God has our attention; and b) we have slowed down enough to listen.
Another more twisted spin on this is that if we have been expending lots of energy and busyness, perhaps unconsciously avoiding or denying our soul paths, the Big Exhaustion serves to bring us into divine alignment. We become so tired, we can no longer fight or resist that which has called us forward. The Big Exhaustion then becomes cocoon time. This is a time to heal and restore so that when the moment comes to tear the silken womb and beat our metaphoric wings furiously, we are ready. We can transform; we can fly anew.
God, you have my complete attention.
(And God smiles and says, "At last.")
— — —
Dr. Adele Ryan McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Adele Ryan McDowell.
The local gyms pepper me with special offers to raise my heart rate and tone up my flab; the diet factories promise a new me after months of cardboard food. The health enthusiasts tell me to cleanse my system, eat organic and up my supplements. Some nutritionists suggest more green drinks, others no sugar. The spiritual groups tell me to intend away, think positively and meditate daily. All to the good, but the thought of any of the aforementioned further enervates me.
You see, I am tired — not just your plain I-have-overworked-and-need-a-weekend-to-recoup tired or your basic come-play-with-me-Britney-Spears-life-drama fatigue - I am bone weary. The well has been tapped dry; my inner reservoir holds only a few dust motes. There is nothing left. The adrenals are stretched; the thyroid is tapped. I have reached clunk — with a resounding thud.
I feel like a car on a cold winter morning as it tries to turn over and make contact. R-r-r-r. R-r-r-r. The engine spits and sputters as it tries to connect.
Heretofore, I have been likened to the Energizer Bunny. I could go and go and go. Now, I am lucky to manage half a go. I could tell you this is age or lifestyle, and there would be some truth to that. You can demand so much of a system and ignore so many of its flashing warning lights before the system crashes and requires a major overhaul.
It's like the Chinese proverb "When things reach their limit; they are forced to bounce back." And often, that is the case.
However, I am prone to think along the lines of Carl Jung, who said that every problem after the age of 40 is a spiritual problem. I don't believe that Jung was discounting the reality of health challenges, lifestyle choices and the juggernaut of stress we 21st century humans regularly juggle. I do think, though, that Jung was doing his Jung thing, which was to delve deeper and dig below the surface to discern a more potent etiology.
What could be spiritual about the Big Exhaustion?
I think when you reach that no-energy place, and have no other choice but to stop, rest and do nothing, you are faced with some pretty big questions.
"How did you get there?" would be an obvious first question. It is scary to find yourself without the energetic wherewithal to get up and go, to do and complete. Most certainly, there can be health concerns, but let's go further in an "and and" kind of way and understand there are many layers and many contributing factors to the Big Exhaustion.
Let's look at energy: energy in; energy out. Like a teeter-totter, you go up and you go down. Ultimately, the ideal is found in balance, that elusive seven-letter word. Energy is the same way; we expend energy through our daily dealings and activities as well as our worries and fears. We take in energy through play, heartwarming connections, creativity, satisfying work, prayer and the like. In other words, those activities, relationships and inner thoughts that feed us, enliven us and enlighten us are energy-giving and restorative; whereas, those that drain us also deplete our energetic reserves.
It becomes a matter of personal mathematics; we need to compare our energy debits with our energy deposits. More than likely, some course corrections will be indicated, such as creating new boundaries, saying "no," being quiet and learning to put yourself first.
But the query "What purpose does this Big Exhaustion serve?" is my kind of question. It goes right for the jugular.
Big Exhaustion forces us to stop. There is no longer choice; we have arrived at clunk. We are forced to be still. We cannot use busyness to keep us from dealing with our Best Selves and the soul work we are here to do.
Big Exhaustion serves as a powerful teacher.
For some, it is a reminder that the inner spirit is far stronger than the physical structure. Unto itself, Big Exhaustion can become a soul path.
You remember the phrase — I believe it came from World War I — that there are no atheists in foxholes. Well, when the Big Exhaustion comes, we often turn to God and say, "Help!" And God smiles because a) God has our attention; and b) we have slowed down enough to listen.
Another more twisted spin on this is that if we have been expending lots of energy and busyness, perhaps unconsciously avoiding or denying our soul paths, the Big Exhaustion serves to bring us into divine alignment. We become so tired, we can no longer fight or resist that which has called us forward. The Big Exhaustion then becomes cocoon time. This is a time to heal and restore so that when the moment comes to tear the silken womb and beat our metaphoric wings furiously, we are ready. We can transform; we can fly anew.
God, you have my complete attention.
(And God smiles and says, "At last.")
— — —
Dr. Adele Ryan McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Adele Ryan McDowell.