Sigh-a-tica

The sigh in sciatica is real

Every day, I read my horoscope. If I like it, I keep it, if I don’t, I ignore it. In the spirit of selective listening, I routinely ignore the following question:

What is your relationship with rest?

I ignore it because I have no idea how to respond. I am usually, as my husbands says, a force of nature. I burst into the world in running, and I have been moving ever since. I am like one of those desk ornaments constantly in motion. It doesn’t take much to get me going, and a small nudge can have me going in every which direction in no time. I am motivated by curiosity, and this world is a giant overstimulating adventure for me.

Yet, everyone once in a while, the Good Orderly Director of my playground calls a time out.

For the past few weeks, I had experienced some pain down the left side of my left leg. I deduced that I needed to stretch, so I stretched. The pain returned. I tried my usual tactics for loosening things up; I went for walks; I went for a swim.

As time went on, the pain radiated from the exterior of my knee to my ankle, then my heel. Stretching was no longer helpful.

The pain radiating in my leg spread to other aspects of my life. It monopolized my attention, and made everything else difficult: painting, even writing, was set aside as my ability to concentrate was affected.

Last week, I  called the acupuncturist who has helped me a few times with nerve pain: sciatica, and carpal tunnel pain. She identified the source of my misery as a pinched sciatic nerve, and three treatments provide some relief.

Of course, having felt that I had done what needed to be done about this, I continued to run around, go to work, do the laundry… By Saturday, I was suffering again. It is at that point that I thought: I should probably rest. I am, after all, in treatment, as the acupuncturist said.

Resting may seem like an easy thing to do if you know how. I don’t. How do I stay in one place with my feet up? Other than my sore nerve, I have my usual amount of energy. How do I stop?

The problem is that I equate resting with doing nothing. When I think of doing nothing, or that I am doing nothing, the shoulds rear their ugly heads. Instead of peacefully recuperating, I shimmer with anxiety thinking of what I am not doing.

How could I manage this? 

Having nothing else to do but reflect with my feet up, I reached the unwelcome conclusion that the Good Orderly Director had put the breaks on my circus. So, my options were few. I could continue to resist and suffer, or accept that I needed to stop.

There’s nothing like G.O.D. to make you consider reframing what you can’t change.

As it turns out, resting is NOT doing nothing. Actually, pausing is an essential condition to listening; and listening is essential to evolving. Hmmm.. 

So, I never passed physics, but is inertia not a phase of movement? Hmmm… more Googling ahead.  Yep, inertia is the resistance an object has to a change in its state of motion, says Google.

So, what was this about?

What if, by resting, I was actually supporting the healing process? What if pausing allowed for regeneration? What if, as my pinched nerve sorted itself out, I could hear what my inner voice was saying?

While I rested, I realized that this pause allowed me to really reflect on what I value. Where should I focus to create a joyful life?

When I retired, I through myself into projects I never had time to consider with a full time job. I did what I always do: I took courses, tried to learn everything at once about my new direction, and quickly reached a state of overwhelm. Although I love the areas to which I dedicate myself now, it was time to reconsider the multiple directions that pulled me. What really mattered to me? Which path was a right for me? Which one made my heart sing? Which ones made me anxious? 

Making these choices meant more that choosing how to use my time and energy. Making these choices also meant giving my own voice the leading role in my life, for now and for the future. What do I really want to do? Which one of these paths will lead me to my best self?

Choosing to listen to my own voice changes everything. Actively pausing, I can hear more clearly. I can actively listen. Maybe that’s what this is for.