Placidity in Motion

** I wrote this post almost 2 years ago but never posted it, I'm posting it now for personal record keeping.**

For the last four years I've been in constant motion- my brain has not rested- all my resources, energy and heart has been put into establishing, growing and marketing a rental division for work. Even in my "down time" my brain was planning, anxiously running numbers in my head, mentally tying up loose-ends left on my desk over the weekend or simply re-hashing decisions that were made the prior day to make sure I had made the best choices. I exhausted all my internal resources; the emotional and mental bankruptcy took it's toll on my creativity, motivation and spiritual wellbeing. It's no one's fault, this isn't a "poor me" post- it's more of a "this is what's going on and why" type of post.

I lost contact with people very, very important to me; including myself. My real self- not the one crawling on all fours trying to forge a path for survival. When I finally broke down to the point of complete exhaustion my doctor held both of my hands and said, "STOP. STOP. STOP. Literally, Casandra, listen to me....I'm not asking you to slow down. I'm not asking you to take a chill pill. I'm telling you to STOP."

It was a chilling moment. A moment of her holding me in place, locking eyes with me. She wasn't pleading. She wasn't advising. She was commanding. And it scared me.

She advised me to resign from my job within a month. The thing I was molding, building and nursing for four years to sustain my livlihood was killing me? She was very dogmatic.

Obviously, I didn't quit my job. But I did resign some of the self-inflicted anxiety and quit shouldering some of the worries that wasn't my place to shoulder; I am drawn towards and adopt responsibilities like little girls are drawn to cute puppies.

In the midst of getting better, having infusions and learning to quelch the voices of anxiety I was reclaiming lost territory within myself. I re-read books that had shaped me spiritually. I dug out an old sermon tape that I used to listen to for spiritual refilling. I found the things that encourage and inspire me and dusted them off, polished them up and started doing them again.

I STOPPED. I really did. And things changed. My perspective changed. The anxiety that hovered over me like a fog started to clear and I felt different. I felt more like myself.

It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby, you're not goin' down
It takes more than you got right now
Give it, give it time
Two years have passed since my doctor said that to me. It's taken a full two years to come to grips with priorities and learning to let go and adapt as priorities can change from one day to the next. It's really, really hard to let go; sometimes, harder than it is to hold on.