I hit a tipping point the other night. My brain had just reached its limit.
Pure brain meltage. A skull of lava.
I hadn’t performed open heart surgery. Or discovered a new element. Or even done any recent writing.
In fact, I’d been having an amazing time visiting home with parents, relaxing and eating and drinking all weekend. We had made a fire in the fireplace. Wore PJs most of the weekend, and talked about hopes and dreams, the past and present. Chatting and laughing.
Yet, I came back exhausted. I had a long list of to-do items including Burlesque dance class, research, grocery shopping, and more, and yet all I wanted to do was NOTHING.
My head was spinning. My muscles ached from doing Pilates the day before (#PilatesFirstTimer). My mind raced from watching #LadyBird and #ThreeBillboardsOutsideEbbingMissouri in the same night.
My brain had just reached its limit.
Earlier that day I had helped my mom create her dream wardrobe for her upcoming trip – a songwriting conference – achieving her lifelong goals. Over the course of 3 and half hours, I worked with her to determine her ideal look – what she thought screamed #AgeAppropriateRockstar <3
By the end, we had an entire week’s worth of outfits for every single bullet on the itinerary. She was thrilled. I could see the sparkle in her eye. The flush in her cheeks. She was finally feeling confident to show up to the conference as her highest self. I beamed at her excitement.
And yet. My brain. Urgh.
As I got back to the city, I braced myself for my list. I set out my planner to do some real…uh…planning. And then I couldn’t.
My brain had just reached its limit.
It was an important decision. To cancel on my class. To shut down for the evening. To take a bath, and go to bed. To sleep in a little on my day off — to the delight of my FitBit (whose sleep tracker had thought I’d maybe die soon due to lack of sleep).
And then I woke up the next morning. And it wasn’t enough yet.
I barely answered texts. I had major quiet time. I sat in my bed with my computer and dreamed of a far off vacation.
I stomached the courage to fix lunch. AKA…I ordered ramen on #GrubHub. Less work. Less talking. MOAR RAMENNN.
After hours of nothing, I managed to get to the grocery store. The cashier had spoke to me more than anyone else that day.
And then I still needed more nothing.
I canceled all plans – all phone dates, all responsibilities. To do more nothing.
I made dinner at home. But then more nothing.
I did my nails on my couch, watching Frasier on Netflix.
More nothing.
It was the most productive nothing day ever.
But it was so unbelievably necessary. It was vital to my health. My mental health.
I didn’t even realize that I had been running at an 11 for months. I had finally burnt myself out. I needed a break. A total reset.
My brain had just reached its limits. And, sometimes, you gotta turn your brain OFF.
