My mind was my most utilized tool, weapon and source of armor for more than three decades. In fact, there was a time I pretty much didn’t trust anyone or anything except for my mental acuity.
Imagine my horror, and downright terror, when I began to struggle with mental illness?!?!
I kept trying to fight it. And I kept losing. Because the weapon I knew how to deploy–my mind– was depleted beyond measure.
And my body was also beginning to fail, because I had been ignoring it and pushing it beyond its capacity for so very long.
A muscle that isn’t used will atrophy. A muscle that is worked constantly, without rest, will grow fatigued and eventually fail in exhaustion. But a muscle that gets worked and rested and worked and rested will grow stronger (originally sourced from The Power of Full Engagement by Jim Loehr and Tony Schwartz).
I was listening to an episode of We Can Do Hard Things with Glennon Doyle and Dr. Hillary L. McBride, author of The Wisdom of Your Body, when it occurred to me:
Losing my mind saved my life.
I am not suggesting that where I am now makes everything I went through “worth it.”
I also am not here to say that mental illness is a gift.
This is not about bypassing the destruction and devastation I have walked through. Or justifying it with a “unicorns and rainbows” happy ending.
I wouldn’t wish my story on anyone. Which is why I tell it so often. As a cautionary tale.
What is also true (for me) is that losing my mind made me stop bypassing my body, mind and soul in pursuit of survival and success.
It brought me to my knees. But it also gave me permission. Permission to stop playing the “success game” I was taught to play by my family of origin and my culture.
It forced me to stop pushing and to start resting.
It forced me to stop fighting and instead to surrender.
It forced me to stop living in the future I kept building in my head, and to learn to be fully present in the here and now.
It forced me to identify and work to repattern the survival strategies woven (for very good reasons) into my nervous system.
It forced me out of my mind and back into my body (a process that is still ongoing) where all of my healing has taken place.
It turns out that your body is always talking to you. And it holds incredible wisdom.
In fact, I have come to believe that we access our connection to the divine through the body, not the mind. I am certain this is not an original idea. But such is the way with universal truths.
Any coping or survival strategy that we use in excess, whether it be it alcohol, or work, or endurance events, will ultimately lead down a path similar to the one that I walked.
If you do not choose to work with(in) your body, eventually your body will start to make decisions for you. The truth is, your body is likely already influencing your decisions and your actions (or lack thereof), whether you realize it or not.
It turns out that the mind is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master, as the proverb goes.
The body has an incredible capacity to heal with the right support.
The journey back into your body begins with noticing. Noticing sensations: tightness, constriction, expansiveness, lightness, and everything in between.
Tools like meditation, breathing, and grounding can help bring you back into the present moment and back into your body.
If you would like more resources to support your own journey back to your body, feel free to reply to this email.
Love,
Booth
p.s. I have been doing a series on toxic stress, burnout and completing the stress cycle over on my Instagram. You can check it out here. And for more on the stress cycle, you can check out Burnout by Emily Nagoski, PhD and Amelia Nagoski, DMA.
p.p.s. I recently had the opportunity to be a guest on the Ms. InterPReted podcast talking about mental health and burnout. You can check it out here.