Deep-Rest.

It's Sunday, which my friends child says is, with unabashed confidence, 'the worst day of the entire week'. I love how much conviction children have about their opinions, like no one else could possibly have one that is different. It's a 'listening to Angie McMahon's Album SALT on repeat' type of day, which takes me through all the emotions I need of love, frustration, melancholy, desire and the pleasure of eating pasta. As a result I am making pasta for dinner- which can only be fully enjoyed when something in your heart needs healing. What that is for me, I'm not exactly sure but I'm certain it will get the sustenance it requires with mushrooms, bacon, butter, white wine, parsley and cheese. It's also butterfly season here on Yuin country and the field of grass around my house is a blanket of orange winged lovers. A sight I won't photograph because I want it to live purely in motion in my mind. Today I'm taking some much needed time to myself, despite wanting to run directly towards my man, I ran directly towards me and it was well worth the initial uncomfortability of that choice. For the first time in a while I am home alone (not working) with no agenda and will be sleeping solo in my bed. I went for a walk into the bush surrounding my house, picked some eucalyptus to vase, fluffed the big cushions on the couch and finally did the dishes. But trust me, the urge to go and have my neck kissed or lunch made for me was stronger than a toddler who doesn't want to give you back the dangerous tool they've picked up. I think starting a new relationship is such a strange time where the emotional pendulum is swinging high from fervent infatuation to freaking out and back again. It's unsettling, but everyone tells me the longer you're with someone you really care about the lower and slower the pendulum swings and eventually from the ashes of the initial raging fire, new growth emerges with deep roots and delicious fruits. Now, on to this weeks topic. Despite having everything I 'asked' for, my Mental Wellbeing is a depleted tamagotchi that needs some serious TLC. I was diagnosed with post traumatic depression back in 2018, and since then it’s been a spectrum that spans across deep black darkness, metallic greys and sky blues- of which I am currently residing in a shade close to silver. It’s unexpected and unwelcome. I wrote down what I wanted from this part of life, a little cottage on a piece of land, my own furniture to live with and art to soak in. I asked for a partner of particular constitution, and for my health and friendships to be overflowing. I received those things with open arms yet here we are, sitting on the carpet and everything is a bit blurry and slightly numb. I'm not writing this for sympathy, but accountability. I have a plan. Or a ‘p-la’ as Phoebe from friends says. Something I know to be true, from years of navigating a nervous system whose response rarely parallels the eternal occurrence is this. If you are in a state of depleted mood but are in a zone where the walls have not yet closed in and colours are bright enough for you to know when it's day and night, do not f*ck around. We are doing the following things, and we are doing them for a long time; possibly forever. Movement is the number one priority. My life is a series of stationary positions of sleep, driving, desk, driving, sitting, sleeping. As a result, my body has become a sedentary silo for still water that once was churned up daily with walks and yoga and dance. Today I had a brief burst of energy which was enough to take me to the supermarket and without an idea of what I wanted to eat (which is hash browns, always) I told myself to put as many variants of vegetables in the basket as possible, pay for them and drive home. So that we did, and on the way home the beach called for a brief moment. I tried not to put pressure on myself to make it the ever illusive 'exercise' but just walking. I always feel better after moving, sometimes laying in childs pose on the rug is enough to get me in the mood to roll out my bones, and sometimes I need to get my a** out of the bed and do the thing. Movement in this context is almost entirely for mental health purposes, but I will also say that butter and I are the very best of friends and I'm never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. So we're moving. The next thing we're going to do is meditate (for real, for real). Meditating is one of those things that I tell people I do, but meditation in-practice for me is 5 mins of the 'deep well' sound on the Headspace app before falling asleep. Which is categorically not meditation. I don't have any specific goals around it but I think 10mins in the middle of the day is something I can commit to 3 times a week. Then, we’re going to reduce our thought casting from 1,5,10 years from now and just throw to the next hour, or the next 10 mins if we need to (thanks boyfriend for that rule). And lastly, we're going to very very simply make our beds every day. Just fold back the doona and line up the pillows. That’s all. I talked to the man about this, curled up on the couch in a state after I accidentally put water proof mascara on and had to scrub it off until my eyes resembled that of a drug dealer. He was soft and kind and believed me, which is all I needed. He told me that sometimes we are so caught up with the illusions and expectations of our external reality, that we drown out the sounds of our internal reality. And that's when the come down kicks in. In the same vein, I think that sometimes our eyes glaze over and the world gets a little fuzzy because we get lost in the whirlwind of jobs and relationships, eating right, exercising, drinking enough water, calling people, setting boundaries, taking our vitamins, having fun, having alone time, having family time, saving money and watering all the plants we bought when we felt we could care for them. But here is what Jim Carey has to say about experiencing a depressed state of being, or 'deep-rest' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIqria9jU9A At the end he mentions the big reveal in The Wizard of Oz, and the metaphor of the man behind the curtain. The Wizard, full of grandeur and confidence says 'pay no attention to the man behind the curtain'. What a poignant reflection on the personalities we take out in the world with us. I think that often what our bodies are telling us when we feel sad 'for no reason', is that the (wo)man behind the curtain has tired hands from moving the levers and pressing the buttons. Working hard to present an enthusiastic you, cheerful you, helpful you. And as Jim alludes to, that the deep-rest required of us does not necessarily mean to deeply rest- staying in bed, shutting off from the world or hiding behind a curtin. But to shed all of the performative elements that we are putting forward, and to exist in a more raw and honest state that is congruent with a life filled with 'nows' and not pasts and futures. I have found that the pressures I place on myself to continue a personality that I created in my youth is one that does not serve me in my most important relationships and interactions. Sometimes, the discursive nature of my daily life- which is to say an existence which skims over multiple modalities of nice, helpful, funny, concerned, decisive, intuitive etc never quite settles, and is one that leaves me spinning in the evening. And so my challenge now, as I said a few weeks ago in this blog, is to ask the questions of myself that need to be asked. We're not looking for answers just yet, we're asking the necessary questions. Have you moved your body today? Have you spent 3 minutes of your time focusing on your breath? Have you opened the window in the loungeroom? In this singular moment, what is the most helpful thing you could gift yourself? Gosh what a long, tumultuous two years we've all had. I'm beyond grateful to be in a position to call upon all the resources at my disposal to improve my wellbeing through nutrition, psychology, and being deeply loved and cared for and that is not a situation that all of us or our community find themselves in. This blog isn't advice because I am in no position to be giving anybody advice, however, I did tell myself I would write about the daily rituals of life and that means writing about our empty cups as much as the cups that are overflowing. Life is long, and wide and wild and I'm here for all of it.

Keep showing up. M x

Bottom Image: My love of Butter is real, and this is the b.e.s.t one. It has a press stud in it- they mean business. Top Image: Yuin Country, Bermagui NSW Daily Ceremony acknowledges Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as the traditional custodians of the land we work on, and we pay our respects to elders past, present and emerging.

Ceremony [ ser-uh-moh-nee ] A unified ritualistic event with a purpose, usually consisting of a number of artistic components, performed on a special occasion. Aka, life.