I spent Memorial Day weekend musing by the ocean’s shore, where I found the rhythmic patterns of the tide reflecting back to me a much-needed reminder.
Like the ocean, our bodies and our capacity to create ebb and flow in a natural cadence that can’t be scheduled, try as we might.
I’d cobbled together the trip last month, feeling the ocean’s magnetic pull after barely being released from her gentle embrace weeks earlier in Costa Rica and then Miami. The sound of waves lapping, the smell of salty air and sand between my toes are to me what I imagine heroine might be like to an addict. The more I have, the more I want of this always reliable source of a euphoric high like no other.
In one of my greatest intentions of hypocrisy, I had the trip all planned out. I’d get lots of sleep and be well rested, thereby able to churn out a short but aggressive ‘to do’ list absent the normal distractions of everyday life.
Just a few things I’d been wanting to create: My three-year vision for an upcoming retreat, a framework and materials for my coaching practice. That’s all. WTF? A ‘to do’ list on vacation? What was I thinking?
I was on autopilot, subconsciously conspiring to violate one of my two cardinal rules for my team and for me: No working on vacation (my other requirement is to learn and grow in whatever role we’re serving, and if such opportunities cease to exist, then it’s time for a different role).
I rationalized that because the things on my list are unrelated to my day job, they really didn’t constitute work, per se. I stand corrected by the Oxford Dictionary, who rightly defines work as, “Activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.”
As it turns out, my body had other plans. I slept nine and ten hours a night, unheard of under normal circumstances but clearly something I needed. I ambled on the beach for hours at a time with no particular destination or timetable. I soaked up glorious rays along with unread books I’ve been toting around for longer than I can remember. My MacBook took residence in the hotel room safe from the time I checked in until packing to go home.
On my last day, as I sat hypnotized by the waves, the guilt of “having accomplished nothing” began creeping into my thoughts. Whoa! I wasn’t about to let this little voice of sabotage ruin an otherwise perfect respite. I decidedly met the unwelcome visitor head-on and sent Guilt back to the depths of the ocean from whence she came.
Our bodies and our creativity demand nurture and nourishment to flourish.
To create and serve to the fullest of our capacity, we must honor our natural cadence and trust that our innate rhythm leads us exactly where we’re meant to go.
My list? These things will be completed at their appointed time. I’m all the more ready to set the world on fire for my weekend rejuvenation by the water’s edge.
If your body has been begging for rest only to be shushed by the mind, ever intent to do more, listen.
As invincible as we may believe ourselves to be at times, our bodies are complex machines that require loving care and maintenance. We’re certain to gain more mileage if we heed warning lights and abide by a faithful tune up schedule than through neglect.
