Who are you trying so hard to be? Try gently instead.

Last summer I bent over in an exercise class to pick up a 65-pound weight and felt something slip in my back.  Considering I’d typically been working with the 35-pound weight, it was a foolish move.  And now I know just how foolish considering I’ve been struggling with back issues since. 

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on what I needed to do to heal, and I did it all and then some.  More yoga classes, more boxing, more HIIT classes.  And then I hired a personal trainer to work on core, because obviously if I’d had a strong core, this problem wouldn’t have materialized, right?  I installed a bar over the threshold of my office door and started hanging off it – decompression is good for the spine, right?  I found myself constantly thinking, almost obsessing about my symptoms, what they meant, how to fix it, what I needed to do differently.

It was mentally exhausting.  And frustrating, because it didn’t seem like I was getting better, no matter what I tried.

It took a while, but I finally got the correct advice, and it was a message I didn’t want to hear.  The solution – rest.  Walking.  Gentle extension.  And time – 3-4 months to heal an issue like this, and it could be longer.

What does it mean to really rest?

Rest is an interesting concept.  We often talk about it under the guise of self-care, but I think it’s something different all together.  Maybe we do take the mental health day or book the spa appointment, but the entire time our head is flooded with anxiety because we’re not doing enough, we think about our to do list, we feel guilty because we’re not being productive.  We try to cram self-care in because it’s trendy and we’re supposed to do it, but the entire time we’re getting the massage we’re thinking about a project at work, or in my case, how to build my new offering of burnout coaching, and worrying that it’s not ever going to work.

Lately, I’ve really been toying with the question – What does it really mean to rest?  And what gets in the way?  Because I don’t think it’s just time.  Not enough time is often how the issue presents itself, but if you dig deeper there’s usually something going on underneath.

The issue is deeper than just time

Particularly in the case of high performers, we don’t allow ourselves to rest.  In my case it was a scary proposition – rest isn’t something you can control.  Control is an interesting thing - if there was something I could do where my body was concerned, then I felt like I was at least making progress.  In my mind, I was advancing towards a goal, even though I wasn’t and was making the problem worse.  But at least I was doing something. 

Our internal dialogues often shout at us – Try Harder!  We push, we strive, we must conquer.  When I looked deeper at my tendency to control, I noticed something else. I noticed something I was very wedded to – my identity as an overachiever on the fitness front. 

Years ago, I threw myself into health when I discovered Bikram yoga.  I practiced religiously, I learned to teach it, I branched out into all sorts of exercise, ran ultramarathons, did epic hikes at maximum altitude and intensity in far flung places like Nepal and Peru.  Macchu picchu was for whimps – I did the Choquequirao trek.  In other words, I have been a bad ass on the fitness front, and I wanted other people to know it.  Did anyone care?  Probably not.  But even if they didn’t there was an aspect of me that needed to prove that to myself.  The more wedded we are to an aspect of our identity, the more we cling, we strive, we chase, we control and we can never rest.  Who would I be if that was all stripped away?

Who are you trying so hard to be?

It’s an interesting question.  Who would I be if that didn’t matter anymore?  Because it doesn’t.  The last few weeks I’ve been practicing compassion for myself.  Compassion for my body that has served me well, through so many trying times.  I’ve been taking walks daily around town lake in Austin – gentle walks, that have rested my body, my heart and my mind.  What’s been interesting about these walks is how much I’ve been enjoying them.  The simple pleasure of being outside, being by myself, the realization that that I don’t have to push harder, I don’t have to try harder.  Maybe the key is to try gently.  Try with compassion.  Try softer.

A couple of weeks ago, as I was walking along the trail, the idea came to me for my next book.  I’ve started writing the outline, and the working title is – The Journey Home:  Reclaiming yourself after a lifetime of performing.  It feels so right. A book based on compassion and what it really means to come home to oneself. The being versus the doing of life and leadership. It’s amazing what we can start to make space for when we learn to let go of the striving…

Coaching questions for thought:

·      What would you say is your identity? 

·      What would happen if it was stripped away? 

·      Who would you be then?

·      What might happen if you allowed yourself to try gently instead of trying harder?

Shelley Pernot is a life and leadership coach who is passionate about helping her clients heal burnout and lead from a place of purpose.  She is particularly adept at working with high performing women perfectionists at risk of burning out.  Feeling a little stretched? Take the 3-minute Burnout Risk Survey to see where you stand.  Reach out to me here for a free consultation to learn more about the coaching process and how it may benefit you!