Lately I’ve been yakking about our energy to achieve what might seem impossible.
So what I’m going to say about feeling “stuck” may surprise you.
Some of us are pleased with the way we’re engaged, our pace, our fluidity — our state — just the right mix of energy and ideas to keep perking along.
But along comes the world, with its own notion of how things are going to unfold. And we can get stuck. Full on … or full off … or full muddling-in-the-middle.
Whatever the state we’re in, we stay in it, helpless and hopeless to change. And we don’t like it.
“Gotta get outta this place!”
Whoa! Not so fast.
In these days, and with all that’s been going on, it’s only natural for us to move to auto-pilot, desensitized. To stay in a rut, even if a good one.
You see, I’ve been there. Just last week, I was hoping something was germinating below the surface — because it was clear nothing was happening that I could see. (smile)
Ever since, I’ve been invigorated and intense, in flow. I like that better, being in full blossom, even though I know when I’m that energized, life can be so full that my choices to go to new heights are actually limited.
Hmmm … Seems to be a gift of learning here.
A long time ago, I observed (OK, I complained) to a wise friend that I felt dull and listless. Nothing held my interest.
Instead of calling it burnout or whatever (how we label such things does matter), he said, “Could it be that you’re actually in the state you want to be in?”
“Huh? … No!”
Dear reader, please take a minute and let my friend’s contrarian idea sink in.
I paused. I thought. And I realized that I’d been problematizing this stuckness — whatever form it took. When I was “on” or “off” for very long, I wanted out of it.
I craved whatever state I wasn’t in.
And guess what? I could easily end up beating up myself over the state I was in, especially if it were the more dormant one.
Only then did I realize that the penalty box is the self-flagellation, not the state itself.
So I thought, “What if I stopped beating up myself and put aside the notion that my being turned on or turned off is a problem to be solved, and what if I experimented, looking with fresh eyes, as my friend suggested?”
I asked myself, “What if I saw the value in each of them — the resting “off” and the zesting “on?”
In other words, how about some acceptance, even appreciation, for the state I’m in? (Even if for about 30 seconds before it becomes unbearable?)
After all, I’m only talking about the same kind of consideration I try to give others when they’re punishing themselves.
“Try a little tenderness.”
For me, sometimes when I’m resting, or whatever you want to call it, I’ve now come to think of it as my internal furniture getting rearranged, out of my awareness. I accept it much more often now. For one thing, I’ve always found creativity coming out the other end.
But seeing the utility in downtime — like taking a vacation because you’ll be more productive – is missing the point. “Let it be.” Just because it’s happening, it’s to be trusted as real and valuable.
And with a little trust, lo and behold, a chance will pop up for the state to change.
What we want can happen naturally through acceptance and appreciation of what is, rather than having to override our natural rhythms and force the bloom.
Paradox.
So love the state you’re in, my friend.
