I don’t always know what to do when I have extra time on my hands. When I woke up this morning I made a plan for the afternoon, and I was supposed to be on a phone call right now. But that didn’t work out. Now I have about twenty minutes until the next call is supposed to happen, so I’m just sitting here listening to Fleetwood Mac and trying to remember the last time I took a shower. (It’s obviously been too long ago.) I keep thinking I could read a chapter in a book, send some emails regarding the swing dance event I’m working on, or dig through the refrigerator–anything to stay busy.

Obviously, I decided to blog. I mean, that’s the ONE THING that absolutely has to happen sometime today. Might as well be now.

I do think my need to fill up every damn minute of every damn day with activity has gotten better. You should have seen me five years ago. I refused to slow down. But there’s nothing like being unemployed and living with your parents to help you change your standards. Like, nothing feels “urgent” anymore. Except watching Days of Our Lives, nothing feels critical in this house. Read a book, don’t read a book. Do something, don’t do something. Whatever happens happens, and it’s okay.

Sometimes when I keep myself busy, it’s because I think it’s important to do so. Maybe it’s an ego thing, but on some level I tell myself that I HAVE to do whatever it is I’m doing. Like, no one can recycle these cans or go to the grocery store as well as I can. Or, if I don’t stay up late to teach this dance lesson, someone’s life is going to fall apart. (Please.) I used to have a friend who worked for a big non-profit. Quite literally, they saved lives. But I watched their body break down under the pressure of that story. They’d go for days without sleeping telling themselves that if they didn’t, people would die. And whereas I’m all for helping others, come on–how can you really help someone else if you can’t even help yourself?

More often than not, I think that story about feeling important or “being needed” is just a story we tell ourselves. I’m not saying you’re not important. You are. We all are. But what I am saying is that I think we often go-go-go in order to distract ourselves–from ourselves. This, of course, is a difficult and almost impossible thing to do, but that doesn’t stop us from trying. At least I know that’s been my experience. So many times I’ve filled up every minute of every day doing anything and everything under the sun in order to avoid getting quiet and simply sitting and being okay with whatever is inside me–nervousness, anxiousness, fear, sadness, even joy.

Hell, if emotions were easy to deal with directly, everyone would do it.

This morning before I got out of bed, I scrolled, scrolled, scrolled through Facebook. I thought about going back to sleep, but I couldn’t convince my body that that was a good idea. Finally, I put down my phone and worked on some deep-breathing exercises I learned recently. After a few minutes, my eyes started watering, my body twitched a bit, and some memories came up. This sort of thing has been happening more and more frequently over the last several months, so it didn’t bother me. But I did think, How long has THAT been hanging around, just waiting for me to slow down and breath deeply enough for it to rise to the surface?

The more experiences I have like this, the more I’m convinced that our emotions and experiences are stored in and deeply affect our physical bodies. For the longest time I’ve believed in my head that “your biography becomes your biology,” but now I believe it in my heart. Your body remembers. Last night my friend Bonnie and talked about this–the difference between knowing something in your head and knowing in your entire being. I think that’s part of what my current journey is about, really believing that every cell in my body is intelligent and conscious and is not only “for me,” but is also capable of healing and letting go at the deepest level.

I’m convinced that healing of this sort doesn’t happen when you’re running around, filling up every minute of every day. It absolutely requires slowing down, getting quiet, and holding space for whatever arises. And if there’s one benefit to my being tired, sick, and worn out these last few months, this is it. It’s forced, or at least strongly encouraged me, to meet myself, to really see what’s going on inside here. And whereas I want my physical body to bounce back and “feel better,” I know that regardless of what it does, my body is better for having walked this road, and this is a journey for which my soul is thankful.