What happens when you stop pushing yourself so hard
Have you ever considered what might happen if you stopped pushing yourself so damn hard on every front?
This question came up a few times for both me and my clients this week. In session with a client, we were exploring her pattern of working to the point of burnout. While she loves what she does, she continuously finds herself so shot at the end of most days that she has nothing left in her to do the things she wants to be doing to support herself.
The same driving force -the pushing- she applies at work, which arguably makes her really freaking good at what she does, she was applying to her desire to be someone who takes good care of herself. Someone who exercises and rests and is creative and gets her needs met, and isn't just a zombie on the couch at the day's end.
She's frustrated because she knows all of those things make her feel better, yet finds herself without the energy or drive to actually do them.
Stuck in a loop of total burnout, layering on the shoulds and shame about not doing the things to help the burnout, and then feeling even worse.
A triple whammy of burnout + self criticism + the pressure to try harder tomorrow.
Does this sound familiar?
I also was confronted with my own pushiness this week, yesterday in fact.
My intention was to write y'all the part 2 follow-up to last week's Nervous System 101 email. And then the day presented many twists and turns, as they tend to do. By 2pm my brain was mush and my body was on fire.
I could literally feel my body buzzing, my thoughts racing, my nervous system about to nose-dive into a state of total shutdown. Tapped out, nothing left to write to you all with.
And of course my brain was firing off thoughts like:
Just write the damn thing. You promised yourself you would. You should have managed your time better this week. If you aren't consistent in showing up here, how will people trust you to show up for them?
Push a little harder.
Finding myself in my own personal loop of brain saying one thing and body saying another.
Then I stopped.
Packed up my computer. Drove home. Walked in the door. Plugged my phone into the speakers. Blasted my college playlist. And danced very chaotically around my living room.
*At the risk of losing you with the questionable and eclectic taste of music displayed here, I'm linking it for you because its so great and so terrible all at once. The name of the playlist really says a lot about College Holly. Please believe me when I say my tastes have evolved and vary widely from this playlist. 🙃 And, it still slaps.
I DANCED. So freaking hard. I sweat, and I shook, and I swung my hips and I sang.
With no intention of working afterwords, just with the hope of feeling a little less like I was losing my mind, and a little bit more embodied.
And here we are. Me, writing to you after all. With an entirely different topic, but an arguably just as important one.
I stopped PUSHING so hard, honored the authority of my body, and paradoxically found myself exactly where I wanted to be in the first place: Showing up here to write and share, and actually having the energy and excitement to do so.
When we stop pushing, and start allowing & honoring –our needs, our desires, our body's messages, our limits– 99% of the time we get where we need to go.
Sure, the path and outcomes may look a little different. But in my experience, the path feels wayyyy more enjoyable and the outcomes tend to be better than expected too.
So, I'll ask you again...
What might happen if you stopped pushing yourself so damn hard?
Maybe there's fear there. Let it be. Notice it. Honor it. And let it exist alongside your desire to do something different– to break the pattern of pushing so damn hard all the time, and learning how to trust that your body knows what it needs.
Learning to trust that when your body speaks, and you listen, you'll feel freaking GOOD.
And that goodness will be what fuels all the rest.
XO