After babysitting my 4 month old niece this week, I was reminded of the lesson my own kids taught me in their infant and toddler years: we are not ‘ourselves’ when we are tired.
When babies are well rested and fed they are observant, social, joyful, curious; when they are tired, they are restless, agitated, even inconsolable. Toddlers too, when past their limits, become the absolute worst version of themselves – we have all seen midday public meltdowns when naptime has been missed.
We adults also become a different version of ourselves when we are tired.
I am tired. I watch my peers and I think they are tired too, though sometimes other words are used to describe our states: ‘getting by’ or ‘doing okay.’ Creativity, joy, and connection may feel harder to access. We may simply not feel like ourselves — it’s understandable, no?
One foot in front of the other
through the zoom fatigue, the pandemic parenting,
the dining room that is seemingly now forever an office,
through information overload, information whiplash,
underneath threats to our health, our financial stability,
and the weight of the world growing heavier (climate crisis, furthering social divides, unsurmountable humanitarian efforts) each passing week it seems.
One foot in front of the other.
In our practice, we are observing deeper pulses and less available energy for outward activity. It is normal to see a pulse shift this time of year of going inward, but starting the season (our second pandemic fall and winter) already depleted is notable.
As we head into our second pandemic winter, I am curious to see how we reinvent ourselves to not just ‘getting by’ but honor our fatigue, and use it as an opportunity to honor the uniqueness of this period of time and listen to what we need.
I think of those who have come before us; I think of my grandmother who turned 95 years old this spring. She remembers losing her home in childhood to depression era foreclosures, she remembers wartime sacrifice, she remembers the threat of polio before a vaccine. She reminded me early on in the pandemic that even when it feels like the world is crumbling, the day still goes on, the coffee gets made, people still need lunch. Tired is to be expected in times like these, so too is not feeling like ourselves. She was able to find recovery and joy with the passing of time and so can we.
Our grandmothers, the babies, and the difference a good night’s rest can make, are our reminders that fatigue is not permanent. That rest is curative. That we are not our best version of ourselves when tired, and that’s okay for now.
