I used to run marathons. Not just the symbolic kind, but 26.2 miles of forward motion. For me, that kind of thing, the slogging through mile upon mile of daily grind felt familiar, comfortable. Always pushing faster, longer, more.
If I could do 3 miles, why not 6?
8 miles, why not 16?
16, why not 26?
This innate drive was indeed accepted, encouraged, demanded really, as so reflected in our current culture of celebrated intensity and hustled perfectionism. And it wasn’t just running either. It was everything.
Received a B on a test? Why not an A?
Lost 5 lbs.? Why not 10?
Then I got hurt.
The culprit?
Overtraining. Stress fractures in both shins.
Who knew? I mean I understood the concept; I had worked as a neuromuscular therapist and nutritionist for years and imparted the importance of recovery to clients. I appreciated the biochemistry of rest for muscle repair and increased endurance.
Yet, for some reason, those rules didn’t apply to me.
It was a forced stop. The kind of universal wakeup call that places you on the edge of inspiration and devastation, teetering between enlightenment and full collapse.
So I, a hot mess of resistance, confusion, and total frustration, walked into my therapist’s office and laid it all on the table. She listened, nodding appropriately and with understanding. Breathless and spent, I spoke almost the whole hour lamenting this horrible turn of events.
What do I do now? I pleaded.
Eyebrows raised and with a look of almost bored wisdom she said, “I’d say you need to rest.”
This to the girl who picked her yoga classes based solely on the intensity of the practice and the least amount of time in Shavasana.
Sometimes we simply need to stop.
Often that is the hardest work.
There is no doubt we live in a “doing” culture where persistence, discipline, and dedication are exalted. The collective memes declare, “Quitters never win”, “You have to sacrifice to gain” and “There is nothing for free.” Yet, I propose what might seem like a radical concept.
The flow is as essential as the hustle.
Perhaps even more vital.
This Full Moon in Cancer reminds us of the incredibly necessary need for renewal, reflection, and replenishment. Ruling the 4th house in a natal chart, it represents midnight, a time for deep sleep, dreaming, rest and repair.
Seasons represent the cycles of nature so evident in both our inner and outer worlds. As the nights grow longer and the days shorter, we too are meant to pause and to release what no longer serves like falling leaves as winter dormancy sets in. We are meant to let die what must be reborn in the light of spring. We are meant to reflect and reconnect to those deeper places continuous forward motion distracts us from. We are meant to conserve energy, as we reap the benefits of our harvest from the year.
Maybe you are not running literal marathons, but overtraining is some other way. Perhaps, your negative self-talk and stories of fear are creating stress fractures in your psyche, your soul cracked and uninspired. Perhaps, you are feeling disconnected, your passion extinguished or out of ideas, blocked and stagnant. Maybe you are pushing ceaselessly toward a goal that seems to be moving farther away regardless of the struggle. Maybe you are just exhausted on all levels, soul tired and spent.
My advice? Stop.
Seek the pause, so it doesn’t have to seek you.
Rest itself is not passive or impotent. It is a misnomer to think renewal is a lack of caring or latent disregard of passion. To pause takes trust. It takes a supreme act of courage to embrace merely being. Challenging because it opens the door to receptivity, a place more vulnerable than the perceived control of doing.
But it is also magical. And incredibly freeing.
This Full Moon happens a day after the Winter Solstice, a time in the Northern Hemisphere that represents the shortest day of the year. A day when the night is longest and darkness at its most profound. A balance point, a correction, when the dark gives birth to the sun itself announcing the illumination of the New Year.
The magic of the pause is it creates space for the new to arise. It lets in the light. As the mind clears the minutia of everyday frenetic energy, insight, inspiration, and epiphones rise to the surface. When we silence the noise, we hear the small, sure, voice from within reminding us what really matters. Because sleep doesn’t help if it’s the soul that’s tired. Creativity, inspiration, play, and joy are the cures for soul exhaustion.
We, like the day itself, must reclaim our light.
So, slow down. Play in all the ways that reinvigorate you. Sing. Paint. Walk. Sleep. Read some fiction. Watch some Hallmark movies. Do a puzzle. Stare at a fire. Sit under the stars. Play music. Eat good food without the story. Do a distraction detox. Put down the phone. Hug people you love.
Simplify your holiday preparations to what feels right and not what is expected or perfected.
Focus on and appreciate what truly matters.
To that end, I want to wish you all pause, reflection, and renewal as you celebrate this time of year. As you make ready for the light to reemerge, first make peace with the darkness. I wish you all clarity as you set your intentions for the new year. In doing so, remember to prioritize the pause alongside the hustle.
Because the pause is as important as the push.
The notes I handle no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes ah, that is where the art resides.~Artur Schnabel
The New Year is a great time for an astrology reading. Contact me for a session.