By Fiona Robertson.
These are such strange times, and it feels like they’re getting stranger every day (especially for those of us who have never lived through any other major disruptions or pandemics).
I’ve been feeling my fair share of anxiety and worry for those most at risk, along with a kind of fascination about where this is all going. Inquiry has been my navigation, as always. I thought that what came up in my looking today might resonate with some of you, so here goes:
As I settled into my body, I could feel a deep sense of exhaustion, and the need for time off. There was a falling into that, that felt so gentle, so tender and exquisite, along with plenty of tears.
‘Exhausted’ kept resonating, so I looked it up in the dictionary, and the full description resonated: ‘to exhaust is to draw off, to empty by drawing out the contents, to use up the whole of, to consume, to wear out by exhaustion, to drain of resources, strength or essential properties.’
Then it hit me: I’m exhausted. We’re exhausted. The earth is exhausted. We’re exhausted by the world (as it currently is).
And much as I’m concerned about what’s happening, I can feel the relief in shutting up shop and staying home for a while. As I lie here, I can feel the relief in my nervous system (which is often challenged to be out in the world) of everything closing, being cancelled, being shut. It’s been one thing after another, and I’m exhausted. There’s a deep relief in naming that and allowing the exhaustion to be.