Three potent medicines that don't come in pill bottles
By the time you read this, I will have left my mom’s cabin in Maine and returned to my home in Lyme, Connecticut.
My heart aches as my time in Maine ends. (In June, I wrote about what this place means to me. You can read about it here.) Last night, the inside temperature was 45 degrees. There’s no central heat or insulation. I’m wearing a hat, fingerless mittens, and two coats as I write this. It’s time to go.
I stash the boats, grill, and outdoor furniture. I pull the dock out of the water. I strip beds, do 7 loads of laundry, give the whole place a thorough scrub, and cover the indoor furniture with drop cloths.
Packing my belongings is like playing Tetris on a unicycle. I travel with a portable steam box, 5 kinds of massage oil, 8 books on Āyurveda (which are not slender paperbacks), and a 2-foot long yoga bolster.
Once I get home, I need to integrate all that I’ve experienced over the last five weeks. I'll want to unpack and do more laundry. I’ve written thousands of words that I want to organize and edit. I haven’t seen my friends in weeks. Now that it's autumn, I'll want to put away the t-shirt dresses and bring the sweaters out.
I come from a long line of hardworking New England farmers who wouldn’t quit until ALL the work was done. And the work was never really done. My lineage also includes Sicilian peasants who worked hard to survive and immigrants eager to prove themselves in their new country.
My genetics would have me jump right in and get it all done yesterday. However, that might send me into a Lyme flare and, lemme tell ya, that’s the *last* thing I want.
Stress may arrive in the form of a new job, new relationship, new pet, change of season, learning something new, a new way of thinking or relating to someone, any transition, moving, traveling, the loss of a friendship or illusion, romantic breakup, illness—chronic or acute, any type of grief, or the restriction of freedom.
For me, stress is closing my mom’s cabin for the winter, packing up my belongings, leaving a place that I love, and returning home to mountains of tasks that I want to accomplish.
Any time that we experience stress, we need to deploy specific strategies in order to maintain or reestablish our equilibrium.
So, there’s three potent medicines that I use and highly recommend. And they don’t come in pill bottles.
1. The medicine of slowness
Consider the following: Can you interrupt yourself when your mind and body are racing? Can you deliberately pivot away from harried and orient yourself toward calm? Can you talk and think and move a little slower? Do you need to stop and rest? Are you multi-tasking?
-Repeat the slow medicine mantra: slow steadies, slow soothes
-Approach tasks one at a time with as much mindfulness as possible
-Get into nature. Observe all that's there--trees, birds, grass flowers.
-Give yourself three big belly breaths, slowly in and out—as needed
2. The medicine of simplicity
-Eat meals made with 3-5 ingredients such as chicken soup, bone broth and jasmine rice, a baked sweet potato with roasted fennel and asparagus, or breakfast rice pudding (seriously, it’s SO good—check out the recipe here).
-Make enough food for a few meals to minimize cooking time and dishes
-Stick to familiar routines
-Go to bed early
-Keep exercise simple, like a walk or qigong
3. The medicine of subtraction
-Say no to people, situations, and things that siphon away energy.
Subtraction is not contraction. Subtraction is saying no when we would usually say yes out of obligation, guilt, or being a people pleaser.
-Don’t add anything new.
We often think that adding something to our lives will relieve our stress (i.e. the latest supplement which promises “increased energy” or trying that hot yoga class). But during times of stress, doing something new may add to our stress, rather than relieve it.
-Questions to ponder: Are there sneaky “shoulds” in your life that drain your energy? That one buddy who talks your ear off about . . . whatever. Do you think that you should listen cuz you're a good person? Can you say no to that conversation? What is the cost if you don’t? Can you differentiate between the things that you *want* to do and the things that you *need* to do? (You think you should get all the laundry done right now. You really need to rest.)
-Limit screen time
We often underestimate simple solutions. But I can tell you from my own personal experience and the experience of my clients that simple solutions are some of the best. When we understand the role that stress plays in Chronic Lyme Disease, we can make different choices. Our trajectory changes when we choose to take a deep breath and acknowledge how we’re feeling, rather than carrying on as if we’re not feeling any stress.
We get to know and meet our needs when we slow down and simplify. In turn, slowness and simplicity lay the groundwork for subtraction. We start peeling back the layers of who the world told us we should be and begin uncovering who we actually are.
I find these medicines easier to apply when I remember that my number one priority is to protect and nurture my own energy. Which is the most precious resource that I have.
Say it with me.
My energy is the most precious resource that I possess. I protect my most valuable resource and nurture it.
The next time you’re tempted to get it all done yesterday or you’re in the midst of a transition, check in. Which medicine do you need the most: slowness, simplicity or subtraction? I’d love to hear from you, so drop a comment, and let me know.
Love,
Kimberly
I acknowledge and thank Chandra Hunter Swedlow for the slow mantra; Dr. Claudia Welch for coining the phrase and explaining the “medicine of subtraction;” and Paula Crossfield for reminding me that our energy is our most precious resource.
