Today I did my normal 20-minute workout routine, and, having some energy left over, I decided to shake things up by trying a new dumbbell workout, which was also only 20 minutes.
Or, as I did it, five minutes, and then four minutes, and then four minutes, and then four minutes, and then three minutes, with panting, sweating, and mild cussing in between. It was harder than I was expecting! It turns out routines specifically designed for middle-aged women are easier than routines that are not. Guess which kind this one was!
But I did it. Eventually. With lots of rests.
My ten-year-old gets some perverse pleasure out of watching me struggle, so as she lounged on the couch, I took the opportunity to give her one of my favorite mini TED talks: Don’t quit; rest.
I told here there will be lots of times in life when things get really hard, and you’re going to want to give up. You will feel like you just can’t go on anymore, and you just want to stop. And that will be okay! You can stop.
But don’t quit; just rest, and then see if you can start up again. I told her that getting in the habit of taking a break, rather than giving up entirely, will serve her through every aspect of her life. (I waved my arms around a bit, at this point. EVERY ASPECT.)
I wish somebody had told me that when I was ten, because it’s taken me 50 years to figure it out. There are very few things in life that absolutely have to be a full-bore, all-out, no breaks, start-to-finish push. But there are quite a lot of things that you really must not quit altogether, but which have room for some rest, so you can get yourself together and then keep going.
This rhythm of work and rest and work again is really baked into how we’re designed. It’s how we give birth, with the contractions coming in waves, with rest in between. It’s how we get through the week, with five or six days or work, and then a sabbath – not so we can quit, but so we can rest. It’s how our bodies and minds are made. If we do not ever sleep, we really will quit: We will die.
“Rest” doesn’t always mean stopping completely. Sometimes it means lowering your standards.
Now here’s the important part….
Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly.
Image: Siesta By Vincent van Gogh – Musée d’Orsay, Public Domain
In theory I agree with the concept of resting , but in reality I have found otherwise. At least as it pertains to those periods in my life where things were really difficult. At those times, if I stopped swimming, I might drown.
Also, I’ve found that in motherhood specifically, taking a meaningful break from young kids in crisis usually makes things more difficult when you return. Better (and ultimately easier) to keep taking things one day (one hour, one minute) at a time.
What’s been most helpful to me during trying times is removing the extra stuff so I can focus my attention where it’s needed most. I suppose hiring a cleaning lady and getting groceries delivered are a type of rest, but they are not a rest from the difficult thing. For that, I have found it’s best to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I have a similar experience when it comes to children. It might not be a crisis, but a rough phase developmentally. If I let someone else deal with it for any period of time, it’s so much harder to get back into that relationship.
But I do agree that with most other things, a break is all you need.
yeah, I see I have a sentence which I meant to turn into a paragraph! Sometimes taking a break doesn’t mean ceasing; sometimes it means lowering your standards. This is the kind of “rest” which is more likely to be available to parents or other caregivers. You can “rest” by using paper plates or being okay with frozen chicken nuggets, or letting the kids watch a little more TV, or letting them win battles over clothes, etc. I certainly remember not being able to just tag out of rough situations!
I needed to read this today; thank you for sharing it.