I did battle with my inner control freak
this week, and I’m not sure who won.
One minute I was embracing the chaos of my currently crazy-busy
life and setting very clear priorities for my time; the next I was seriously considering
setting my alarm for 4.30am so I could fit in a workout before starting work at
7.30. I had to give myself a stern talking to at that point. In the unlikely event
that any of you needed a reminder on this: 4.30am is a time for going to sleep
after a massively unhealthy night. It is not a time for waking up and commencing
massively healthy activity.
The part of me that wanted to make every minute of my
life useful – hello, control freak! – did not want to accept the fact that, at
a time when work is ridiculously (but temporarily) busy, I do not have the time
for my lengthy fitness sessions. A one-hour yoga class after work: yes, but
only once a week. Ninety-minute sweat sessions followed by the palaver of
getting my body into a workplace-appropriate state then travelling into the
city: no, not right now.
Of course, this wasn’t really about exercise
at all. Although fitness is important to me, I’m fairly blasé about it, and it’s
not unusual for me to flag a workout due to time constraints. So for me to consider
depriving myself of the sleep I so badly need to get through this busy period,
in order to squeeze in gym time, was not about maintaining my physical fitness
but about maintaining a routine. My inner control freak does not like the
unexpected. It likes order. It likes familiarity. It believes it can keep me
safe by restricting me to a predictable path. It is wrong.
Last weekend I tried floatation therapy which
demonstrated my struggle to let go in a fairly obvious way. This involves
stepping into a dark, silent chamber filled with highly salted water for an
hour and just floating (side note: you guys really need to get in on this
action). In other words, letting go. Not letting your body steer you. Not letting
your brain be distracted by what’s around you (you are virtually
deprived of sensory stimulation). Not letting your brain obsess about the time
or grocery lists or deadlines or upcoming family birthdays or whether your boss
is shitty with you or whether she was just overtired when she was a bit short
with you yesterday. Should be easy, right?
 |
| Floating on the surface, going in deep. |
I struggled with this so much. First, my body didn’t
want to accept that it wasn’t required to move. That it was fully supported and
perfectly safe. It’s a very strange sensation to be partially submerged and not
have to do anything to keep yourself in that state. I kept trying to push my
bum downwards to the bottom of the chamber, just to reassure myself that I couldn’t
sink (yeah I know, that doesn’t even make sense). I also kept lifting my arms up
behind me because I was worried I’d hit my head on the edge.
Then my stupid brain started up. It didn’t want to be
present in this moment, it wanted to race ahead and plan everything everything
everything. The week ahead. New projects to pitch for. What to say to friends who
are going through challenging times. My inner control freak was not checking out
of this hotel anytime soon.
Then something funny happened – I hit my head on the
edge of the chamber. It didn’t hurt because I was drifting across the water
very slowly, but it did give me a bit of a fright. The reason I found this amusing
was because it was such an obvious message from the Universe: GET OUT OF YOUR
HEAD.
So I did. After I’d composed the grocery list.
After I finally let go, the most beautiful sense of
peace washed over me, and even though it took me more than half the session to
get to that point, it was so worth it. I felt so relaxed, in every molecule of
my body, that I almost fell asleep on the train on the way home (this never
happens – normally I’m furiously scribbling in my notebook or on high alert for
weirdos) and that night I had the best sleep I’ve had for months.
So in other words, letting go and trusting that I will
be fully supported is something I really need to get better at. If only I could figure
out a way to do that without having to almost drown myself…
