It’s an on-going deliberation for many of us, I think, and one that has become/is becoming particularly pertinent in my life right now: what’s the difference between inertia and rest? We’re badly primed to understand this difference in modern western capitalist society, which demands we give account (usually in monetary terms) for every second of our days.
We know we’re SUPPOSED to rest, but most of us are, let’s face it, really BAD at that. We rest, but by doing other things. We rest, but by ticking the optional things off our to-do list. We rest, but by doom-scrolling.
Actually, we don’t rest at all: we merely take a break from Things We Usually Do.
And so we have, most of us, spent our lives gaslighting ourselves out of our need to rest. No, I’m not really THAT tired, surely I can do one more. No, I don’t really need to go to bed NOW, surely I can do one more. Etc etc and so on.
The problem comes – or has for me, in a couple of different forms this year – when the need to rest gets bound up with fear-based inertia.
I want to write, but haven’t been able to for the last few months, not since I had a fabulous Jan/Feb finishing out the short stories that came out in the And Then I Shall Transform collection. Is this because my brain legitimately needs a rest from writing, or is it because, with one project finished and no concrete demands for a specific new writing project to open, I’ve fallen into inertia and can’t unbog myself?
I need to exercise daily, there’s so much research about how helpful it is as a prong of cancer treatment, but my mobility is still low and my fatigue levels are high, so it’s incredibly tempting to give in to inertia and just lie around because if this isn’t a good excuse to do that, then what is? And it’s true, my body absolutely needs rest right now, and to not be pushed beyond her limits, and to have her fatigue respected……. and I also need to move her for the best chance at health.
And I’ve grown up in a culture and with a brain type (ADHD) that has left me, at the age of 38, almost ENTIRELY without the skillset required to know when I’m doing nothing because: rest, and when I’m doing nothing because: inertia.
So far, the best delineation I can come up with is fear.
Rest is never driven by fear. Rest is driven by a sense of peace, an acknowledgement that we are enough, that we’ve done enough and that whatever the day is, it’s enough.
Inertia is driven by fear: I’m afraid of writing the wrong thing, picking the wrong project to work on, wasting time; I’m afraid of pushing my body to hard, of pain, of exhaustion.
Choosing to move doesn’t have to equal pain. I can write the ‘wrong thing’ and it doesn’t have to hurt if I consider it a learning experience, and that no words are ever wasted. I can choose to move my body without pushing her to the point of pain; simple movement is fine, and a few steps here and there can absolutely make all the difference without adding to my fatigue. I don’t need to hike (or visit the post office, which was confrontingly hard two days ago) to call it ‘movement’, and I don’t need to write an entire short story in a day to call it writing, either.
My ADHD brain likes all-or-nothing, go-big-or-go-home, sprint-hard-until-you-crash.
Life is trying very, very, very hard to teach me that that’s unsustainable, and I have other options, and can make better choices.
And, of course, that I’m happier, and more successful, and – bonus – usually more productive when I do.
Dagnabbitall. Why do all the useful skills require practice?
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