Friday Thought : The Exhaustion of Holding On

I recently came across the quote, “Rest is not a reward for finished work, it is a requirement for sustainable work.” And I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Mostly because I think - I know - that I’ve spent a lot of my life treating rest like something I earn after everything is handled.

After the work is done.
After the stress settles.
After the future feels certain.

The problem is . . . life never really stops handing over things to carry. And lately I’ve realized that exhaustion isn’t always physical. Sometimes - oftentimes - it's psychological, spiritual, emotional. It's the exhaustion of holding on too tightly.

Holding onto control.
Holding onto outcomes.
Holding onto fears about the future.
Holding onto conversations long after they ended.
Holding onto the pressure to make sure everything works out for everyone.

I can physically sit still and still feel exhausted because my mind never actually unclenches. Even with a bourbon!

And maybe that’s what I’ve been wrestling with lately. Not just the idea of resting my body, but resting my grip. Because if I’m honest, I think a rather large part of me believes that letting go means I don't care enough about it. And if I don't care enough about it, it will slip away - like the party balloons slipping from my four-year-old's fingers and escaping into the sky, never to return.

But I’m starting to wonder if sustainable people, healthy and purposeful people, aren’t the ones who carry the most but the ones who know when to set things down the best. 

I’m not very good at that.

I still confuse tension with responsibility sometimes. Oftentimes. Perhaps almost always:) But I’m learning (or trying to learn) that constantly living clenched is not strength. It's just fear disguised in a clenched fist. And fear is exhausting. 

Rest is bigger than sleep. It is trusting that not every problem needs me. It's believing the world can keep spinning while I breathe. It's knowing - even when I don't want to - that I am not in control. Which is good! Because my wisdom, strength, and abilities are severely limited. It's probably best if someone - something else - is involved:)

I don't quite have a conclusion to this thought yet, just the growing realization that if rest only comes when everything is finished… I may never rest at all.

This weekend, in whatever capacity you need or feel convicted by, please rest. Not because you've earned it (although you have), but because you need it. To love your families. To support your students. To care for yourself. 

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been thinking about this week.

Friday Thought : Right now, we are all rubber bands

In my most recent staff meeting I handed out a rubber band and asked people to get into groups of three. “Now stretch it out,” I said. And they did, but only to the point of resistance.

“How’s the rubber band?” I asked.

“Fine,” they said, because rubber bands are made to be flexible and to endure. Just like us.

“Now pull a little more,” I said. And they did. Not as much as the first, but still a good stretch.

“What about now?” I asked, “How’s the rubber band?”

“Fine,” they still said, but less assuradely.

“Now pull again.” And they did. “And again . . . and again, and again.” With each and again, they pulled a little less and worried a little more. One teacher even used her free hand to block her face.

“This is where we are,” I said, “We are made to endure, to be flexible, but with each new request, with each new demand, we stretch a little more and a little more and a little more. We are now living in a state of constant fear that we’re about to break.”

We can endure hard seasons. We can absorb change, be flexible, and stretch ourselves further than we thought imaginable. But not forever. Lest we break.

The problem is - for my staff in that meeting and for many of us in our daily lives - we don’t see an end in sight, largely because the problems and issues are far bigger than us, and we can’t do anything about it.

What we can do, however, is show grace. To ourselves, and to others.

Giving grace doesn’t mean we have a free pass to sacrifice our integrity or high standards of excellence - absolutely not! But it does mean that when we fail, we show grace - that we courteous and show goodwill.

You are trying your best. The woman next to you is trying her best as well. The man across from you is trying his best. The kiddos in your classrooms are showing up and trying their best, and your boss is trying her best. But we can only stretch so far. And for many of us, we are walking fearful that, with the next request or burden to bare, we will break.

We can’t solve most of the problems the people around us are asked to endure, but we can give them - and ourselves - some grace. Which, in the end, might be the only thing that holds us together.