How Taking a Step Backward Can Be the Way Forward
Essential Stoic learnings from a month-long break
Release
“It’s time you realized that you have something in you more powerful and miraculous than the things that affect you and make you dance like a puppet.” — Marcus Aurelius
For much of August, I stopped writing publically. It was different than burn-out; I still had ideas, had the urge to write, but kept putting it off even though I wasn’t sure why.
Finally, I figured out the reason: it was because I needed the time to further integrate physical and emotional processing in order to release the lingering trauma stored in my body.
This work wasn’t something that could be done in one or even a few simple steps, and I found that it took a willingness to reexamine why these bodily problems still existed. Was I secretly holding onto something? My answer was no! I am done with that. I am done paying for things I couldn’t control.
But nevertheless, it was time for the next level of healing, release, and enlightenment.
For guidance during this process, I turned to Stoicism, a philosophy founded in Greece during the 3rd Century by Zeno of Citium. With a fastidious emphasis on duty, justice, virtue, and reason, the Stoics believe that moderation and self-control leads to a good life.
Each time I embark upon this path of conscious releasing and non-resistance, I think that I can’t possibly release further — but then I do.
I release the notion of who I ought to be, and who I used to be. I release it in order to further transform and reconnect with the essence of self.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the paradox of life; it’s a continually building up of things, ideas, notions, and then the continual breaking down of walls, barriers, and limits.
Life is a continual release.
Reconfigure
“Don’t seek for everything to happen as you wish it would, but rather wish that everything happens as it actually will — then your life will flow well.” — Epictetus
As I went through this process, I began to reconstruct, rearrange, and reconfigure my understanding of the universe.
I remembered how Plutarch’s “The Ship of Theseus” used the metaphysics of identity as a thought experiment, raising the question of whether an object that has had all of its components replaced remains fundamentally the same object. And how this applies to our sense of personhood as we change, grow, and adapt to our surroundings. Are we the same? Do we need to be?
Throughout life, our beliefs, ideas, and, habits evolve beyond recognition. Our social and physical environments change. Almost all of our cells are replaced. Yet we remain, to ourselves, “who” “we” “are.”
I took this timeless trove of wisdom and decided to rethink the way that I was living and working. This is something that I am still feeling out; when to do physical therapy, work with our rescue animals, write, and/or research. But it will come, and I hesitate to set a schedule in stone until I see how life flows around it.
Renew
“In your actions, don’t procrastinate. In your conversations, don’t confuse. In your thoughts, don’t wander. In your soul, don’t be passive or aggressive. In your life, don’t be all about business.” — Marcus Aurelius
A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.
This goes back to that elemental paradox of existence: despite a universe of constant change, we yearn for stability and permanence as a way of shielding against our inescapable mortality, our own individual impermanence.
And yet, this erroneous coping mechanism results not in immortality but in complacency, stagnation, a living death.
In this season of renewal, I reminded myself that it is okay to take a break and okay to release all that you thought that you knew in order to grasp a deeper understanding of how one thing ripples out and affects every other thing.
Reorient
“First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” — Epictetus
Another component of my time off involved doing even more deep healing work in order to release the emotions tied with many of my physical maladies, including talking with a trauma therapist about the relinquishing of things that no longer served me.
As Michelle Skellenger, LCSW put it, “Those anger stores served their purpose; that fight or flight kept you small and as out of harm’s way as it possibly could. But you no longer have to pay for the wrongdoings of others. You don’t have to pay. You have had to survive despite so many ways of being brutalized, neglected, and tortured. You truly are a warrior.”
This struck something deep within me, like an illuminating lightning bolt on a clear sunny day. I had been making myself pay for the wrongdoings of others, even if I had forgiven, moved on, and healed.
Forgiveness was the first step, and the catalyst for all of the later steps that would eventually free me from intergenerational trauma. I’ve come to see any act of forgiveness towards others as a form of self-forgiveness. And self-forgiveness is where the magic happens.
Recuperate
“Nothing, to my way of thinking, is a better proof of a well ordered mind than a man’s ability to stop just where he is and pass some time in his own company.” — Seneca
At first, a 2-week break from writing was inexplicably difficult, but I knew that it was necessary in order to stay healing and strong.
This is something that I’ve done every year of my writing career, and I’ve finally accepted that it’s something that I need to prevent burnout and stagnation.
Like many worthwhile endeavors, I started small. I found a physical therapist to work on the physical side of my body and mind, and had dry needling once a week. After just a few sessions, I felt some of my energy return.
It was easier to wake, and do all the things that needed to be done for our family. I worked more with my rescues including Raffi, the affable pit bull.
I prepared my son for his first day in kindergarten, social-distancing style.
I drank detox tea to help my liver and muscles (which honestly felt like crap, but was an important part of healing work).
Relax
“Life is very short and anxious for those who forget the past, neglect the present, and fear the future.” — Seneca
As I worked on releasing the trauma in my body, I also worked on my mind, processing it even further, and eventually coming home to myself once again.
I learned from a bodywork specialist how to set up my unique workspace to prevent more chronic pain and to help me relax.
It was and still is a full-time job learning to relax my body further.
Even if my mind is relaxed, which it usually is, my body holds onto that rigid tension, a remnant from a strict childhood and 20 years of classical ballet training.
I began to breathe deeper, lay on the ground in front of our house, and sit in the gray spinning chair as my son put on demolition derby shows with his monster trucks, giving him my full attention without my phone or internal chatter. This was liberating.
I made vegan cheese quesadillas and steamed broccoli for breakfast, really listening to my body and how it made me feel.
I added in supplements to mop up all of the free radicals released from trigger point therapy.
I relaxed into the flow of life and found a reconnection with source, God, the eternal, all that is. And on several hot sunny walks with my husband, I remembered my strength and will never forget it.
Reconstruct
“Don’t explain your philosophy. Embody it.” — Epictetus
At the end of these few weeks of peaceful restoration and recuperation, I started to write again, and plan, and plan. I put together ideas for my website, a full editorial calendar of possible writing subjects (I’m being flexible with myself), a possible new writing client, and connected with a local pit bull rescue to learn more about the breed and training methods.
This is the beauty of life.
We are never stuck.
We can always change and move forward at any moment that we choose, and this was that moment for me.
If you’re feeling like your mind or body could use a break, then do it.
There is no better way to care for yourself. Life will always be waiting, beckoning us to dip our toes in the sands of time, to explore the promise of possibility, and with staggering resonance come home to ourselves, once again.
With love and gratitude, Aurora
