Lately, and, I’m not sure why, I’ve really had a tough time with Tuesdays. I miss my morning workout, feel exhausted and beat up, struggle to get out of bed, and just have a slow start to my day. By the afternoon, I usually bounce back, and usually even get a workout in. However, there is just something about Tuesday mornings, and my flow.
I’ve been trying to figure out why.
This has been happening for a while now. I don’t really do anything differently on Mondays that warrant this funk, at least not that I know of or can tell.
On Mondays, I get up at 5:30 AM for my 6:00 AM workout. I do this every Monday. This is my first workout of the week as I tend to take Sundays completely off as a rest day. My diet and eating usually are pretty on par so I eat clean. Then, I work most of the day, take Payton for a walk, have dinner, and close things out for the day.
This seems almost ridiculous to write as I know my routine … just trying to deconstruct my day to see if I’m missing something.
Nothing spectacular (ah, just realized I feel ALL of that, and maybe that’s part of why Tuesdays are off …) and nothing unusual (can sense the profound mundane aspect of what I just wrote).
I’m realizing that I don’t feel lit up all the time, in general, these days. I carry around more of an apathetic, uninspired, disconnected, don’t really give-a-shit feeling with me for too many hours, for too many days at a time, or at least portions of my day.
It’s kind of like Groundhog’s day repeating itself over, and over, and over again.
I feel between the pandemic and all that’s going on in the world that I’ve checked out of my life and purpose to some degree. I’ve sort of tapped out. I don’t want to engage. I’ve lost some of what creates that spark for me. Everything in the world is just all so different, and sometimes it just feels like I am going through the motions.
I have spent a lot of time processing, reflecting, and asking myself some tough questions (especially all the why questions, and how is that serving or not serving me). I also have moments where I’m just tired (and completely over) all the processing and reflecting.
Yet, I feel I might be afraid of the actual answers.
I get a sense (oh, that intuition of mine) that my path is shifting. That’s it’s making a hard right. That my focus is narrowing into a more specific lane. That I need to truly pivot … and, that all feels like starting over.
I also feel like I’ve been coasting (for quite a while now, if I am being honest with myself) and sitting in a continual pattern of feast or famine, pouring rain or drought, and cycling in-and-out of being a high-performing survivor.
Because I definitely don’t feel like I’ve been thriving.
My imposter syndrome also has been screaming at me lately. I feel I've lost sight of what truly lights me up, what I am most passionate about, and how I honestly want to show up and serve.
I feel like I’ve been doing the “inner work,” but have I really been doing the work?
Am I really allowing myself the space to just be with what’s moving and passing through?
Am I going deep enough to really listen to my truth?
Am I doing enough, being enough, exploring enough?
Am I … ugh, all the endless questions that I keep throwing at myself, use to shame myself, judge myself, and truthfully are just wearing me out.
I resist meditating because I find all the questions daunting and overwhelming at times, and only recently picked up my journal back up and have been writing daily on a consistent basis (as here were are).
Oh, stillness, how I crave you and deny you at the same time. I want to access the gentle, quiet whisper within … I really do, and yet, I am hesitant to receive the messages awaiting me.
I still struggle with the not doing all the time. That need to be active, busy, and productive (which actually are contradictory terms … and, I know this). It’s such a lie. A lie I keep constructing for myself and buying into. And, while I know this, I allow it to hold me hostage at times, and to hold me back.
Oh, how I’ve been playing small.
There is such a restlessness inside me right now, ricocheting all over my body. I know the typical pathways, expectations, and definitions of success don’t work for me (I mean, do they really work for anyone without demanding you sell your soul in the process?). I want, I crave, something different; something fresh and new.
Yet, I have no idea what that might be.
So, here I write. I am just letting myself ramble and get thoughts out on paper. My pen seems to have a direct path to all that wants to come out of me, pour out of me. Perhaps, as a prayer to God and as a plea to the majestic Universe for guidance, these words take over:
“Help me to know that I am fully support, loved, and held. Help me to know that I am safe to go deep into the stillness and silence. Help me to know that I am enough, and that my gifts are needed right now, in this moment … that I don’t have to wait for anything to show up. Help me to easily attract exactly who needs me most.
Because I believe I am here to do great things. That I am here to influence, disrupt, and impact real, meaningful change in the world. That I have a powerful living legacy to leave. And, that I am merely a channel, or vessel, for God’s message to shine through.
Thank you for this stop on my journey. Thank you for reminding me to fully let go and surrender, completely and continuously. Thank you for guiding and lifting me to my next level. Thank you for making me, well ME.”
Maybe I am not going to figure it all out today.