A Gentle Reminder: You've Done Enough

The last few weeks, I’ve been feeling tired. Maybe it’s the change in daylight hours, maybe it’s my body wanting to live in rhythm with the seasons, and honestly, I’ve found myself barely wanting to get through my long list of things I “should” be doing. It felt like an endless loop of "should be's." Honestly I felt as if all I could really do was unplug myself for a little while. Disconnect. In a society where productivity is glorified and resting can be frowned upon, it’s challenging to know when it’s time to rest and digest and when it’s time to keep moving forward. At least, I find myself in that predicament all too often. It’s a reminder I know I need time and time again. I needed it this week, and maybe you do, too.

I noticed my shoulders tensing up toward my ears again (they always do that when I'm carrying too much). My breaths were coming in short and shallow, thoughts ruminating, all the signs my body gives me when I'm spreading my energy too thin, in too many places, and I forget I’m just a human - and I can only do so much. I forget balance is necessary.

The thing about these moments is how sneaky they can be. They show up in the quiet spaces - in the pause between tasks, in the quiet morning hours, in the early evening, in those moments where I know I could choose to be present with myself, rest, but then the voice creeps in, the one telling us we should be doing more, creating more, achieving more. Always more. Never enough. Always striving to be somewhere else, forgetting to acknowledge where I am right now.

I've been sitting with this lately - this constant chase of more, the endless ideas but can’t find enough ground to take action. The endless striving that leaves us exhausted, disconnected, always reaching for the next thing before we've even finished celebrating where we are. It reminds me of all those years I spent pushing through, spreading myself way too thin, missing the wisdom in the in between moments. The wisdom in the now.

But here's what I'm learning, what I'm really trying to lean into these days: that feeling of not enough? It's not truth. It's not wisdom. It's just the echo of a world that's forgotten how to be still.

Sometimes I catch myself looking at my to-do list like it's a measure of my worth. As if the number of crossed-off items somehow equals my value that day. Or that month. But what if we measured differently? What if we counted the breaths we took when we wanted to run? The moments we chose rest when everything in us screamed to keep pushing? The times we listened to our bodies instead of our minds?

Because here's what's true: you've already done so much. More than you probably realize. You've shown up. You've tried again. You've carried hopes and dreams and yes, sometimes disappointments. You've kept going, even when the path wasn't clear. Even when doubt consumed you. Even when it would have been easier to stay comfortable.

I'm learning (slowly, imperfectly) that rest isn't something we earn after we've completely burned ourselves out. It's not a reward waiting at the finish line of productivity. Rest is how we remember we were enough all along. It's how we come home to ourselves, again and again. My therapist recently reminded me, that just because we gain energy or momentum - does not mean we have to use all of it, all at once. We can still move in moderation and in balance.

Maybe you're reading this right now, feeling the weight of all your unfinished tasks. Maybe your own shoulders are creeping up, your own breath catching. Maybe your mind is ruminating with so many ideas, plans, future tripping, what you have right now in the present moment is slipping away from you. This is your permission slip to soften. To let your shoulders drop. To take a full breath that fills your belly. To trust that you're exactly where you need to be. To move with your own energy - to nourish the now, so your future can flourish.

The world will keep spinning. The to-do list will remain endless. But for now, in this moment, you have permission to be here. To rest. To cancel your plans for a whole week. They can wait. To trust that your worth extends far beyond what you produce. Trust in your timing - you are never feeling anything at the wrong time. You are always where you are meant to be in each given moment. Follow that.

We’ll chat again soon,

Vanessa