The Art of Pulling Back

Renee:

I woke up at 4 a.m. Friday morning in pain. Not the kind where you roll over, find a more comfortable position, and go back to sleep. The kind where you open your eyes and immediately think, What the heck is happening?

I was lying on my back with my right leg extended, and the pain was intense. My immediate instinct was to roll onto my side and pull my legs toward my body, curling up to find some relief. At the time, I wasn't thinking about anything beyond getting comfortable enough to go back to sleep. But a few hours later, that movement would give me something interesting to think about.

We'd just wrapped up our MetaMind fall retreat, which was an incredible experience. We spent several days with our members connecting, collaborating, sharing ideas, and enjoying the community we've built together. At the same time, Eden was celebrating homecoming, including being selected for the homecoming court. If you read our last blog, you know that Mark and I were doing some serious coordinating to make sure we could be there for her while still hosting our retreat.

What I didn't mention is that I ended up driving back and forth for about ten hours over the weekend. Between the retreat, the parade, the football game, getting Eden ready for the dance, and everything else, I was constantly moving. I wouldn't have missed any of it, but it was a lot.

Fast forward to Friday morning. After waking up with my leg hurting, I still had to get Eden to school, and even driving was uncomfortable. To make things more interesting, she had a party that evening, and I had a full day of preparations ahead of me. There were things to organize, things to pick up, and plenty of details that needed my attention. Lying on the couch was definitely not part of my plan.

At one point, I found myself standing in our bedroom crying. Part of it was the pain, but there was also frustration, sadness, and a fair amount of anger. I kept thinking, Why today? Why, when I have so much to do, does my body suddenly decide it won't cooperate? I wasn't just upset because I hurt. I was upset because I couldn't do what I'd planned.

Mark came into the room and encouraged me to go lie down. He reminded me that I didn't need to do anything right then and that I could rest. I appreciated him saying that, but I was resisting the idea because I had things to do! Eventually, I took some pain medication, which is something I rarely do, and settled onto the couch with some heat.

As I sat there trying to get comfortable, I noticed I was curled up again, drawing my legs toward my body. I was contracting, just as I had instinctively done when I first woke up. And that's when it occurred to me that I've been extended in just about every direction lately.

I've been extending myself toward our clients, our business, our children, and all the details of hosting a retreat while keeping everything moving at home. The funny thing is that those experiences have been wonderful. I loved our retreat. I loved watching Eden on the football field. I loved helping her get ready for homecoming, and I love the work Mark and I do together.

But just because you're happy to do something doesn't mean it doesn't take something out of you.

I think we tend to recognize overextension when we're doing things we don't want to do. When we say yes out of obligation or feel resentful about our commitments, it's easier to recognize when something needs to change. But what about when everything on the calendar is something we truly want to be part of? It's easy to keep saying yes when the answer really is yes, even when we're running on empty.

I'm not suggesting that my leg pain was caused by some grand emotional message from the universe. I spent ten years working as a massage therapist, so I understand that muscles, joints, and connective tissue can have very physical reasons for complaining. But the timing certainly got my attention, and the metaphor was hard to ignore.

We spend so much of our lives focused on expansion. Growing our businesses, expanding our reach, creating opportunities, and doing more of the things we love. Expansion sounds exciting, productive, and successful. Contraction, on the other hand, doesn't have quite the same appeal. It can sound like retreating, pulling back, or doing less, and for someone who likes to get things done, that can feel really uncomfortable.

But our bodies don't work through extension alone. Muscles contract and release. We breathe in and breathe out. There's a rhythm to it, and we need both.

Maybe that's true of our lives, too.

By Friday afternoon, I'd accepted that the day wouldn't look quite the way I'd planned. I took the time I needed to rest, and thankfully, I was feeling well enough to help with Eden's party that evening. But I also made sure not to push myself. I did what I could, accepted that some things could wait, and gave myself permission to step away when I needed to.

At one point, I was lying in my bedroom, listening to the giggles coming from the other room. Eden was having fun with her friends, the party was happening, and I didn't need to be right in the middle of it all. I could simply enjoy hearing everyone having a good time.

It reminded me that I don't always have to keep extending myself to be present for the things that matter. Sometimes I can draw back, give myself a little room to recover, and still enjoy the life happening around me.

And sometimes that looks like curling up in my room, listening to the laughter, and realizing that I don't have to be the one making everything happen to appreciate the moment.