Making Space to Recover
Photo by Quinn Corte, 2019.
Listen to the audio version below:
I took a nap on Monday at 10am. Not just a cute cat nap, but a sawing-logs 1.5-hour snooze-fest under the covers.
There was no “reason” I needed a nap at 10am. I had gotten “enough” sleep the night before. I wasn’t “sick.” My body just greeted this particular Monday morning with a big NOPE.
Who am I to tell my wise body that it must be mistaken—that I shouldn’t need a nap because I got between 7 and 9 hours of sleep, and the National Sleep Foundation says that’s enough? Turns out, that foundation actually doesn’t know better than my body (which is struggling to keep its eyes open).
I’m tired of needing a socially acceptable reason to be tired.
So much invisible work is happening in our bodies all the time. There are the usual internal functions like digestion and circulation. Then the body is working overtime to release enough stress hormones to meet our sky-high expectations of productivity and speed. The body is also constantly healing inner wounds and fighting off colds, viruses, and toxins.
And then, there's that extra-hidden layer of activity within us.
Have you ever felt something painful from your past shoot up like a geyser out of nowhere—and you’re totally confused until you realize it’s the anniversary of that trauma? So often we forget that the body is home to a constant undercurrent of deep processing—of grief, trauma, challenging emotions, and mysterious alchemy that has no logic. The body is working things out on a different level.
Furthermore, it’s taking a lot of energy to be a human right now. Our lives and the world are shifting and squeezing us from within. During the pandemic, we all learned that modern life moves faster and harder than the body wants to.
We must remember that we aren’t machines. We can’t work, give, and perform at a high level around the clock. Our bodies require regular, built-in recovery time. When we’re robbed of basic recovery time (like if we drink coffee whenever we need a nap or always forfeit vacation time), our systems eventually get overloaded and can't self-regulate. We need consistent physical recovery, emotional recovery, and mental recovery.
We’re always recovering from something. Physically, my body is still recovering from getting Covid a few weeks ago (even though I'm "better"). Emotionally, I’m still recovering from the past few years of intense change (even though I'm "past it"). And mentally, I’m needing frequent recovery and integration breaks as I learn a complex new job (even though I've "got this").
The cultural and inner demands on our bodies are too high. Recovery time needs to be built into our work schedules, daily rhythms, and seasonal flow. We need to lower our collective expectations to have sustained, high energy output all the freaking time. And we need to be radically accepting of our own energy ebbs and flows.
Recovery is a core need, and the way it works can be very mysterious.
We know that healing isn’t linear. The deepest wounds may come back around decades later for another round of feeling or processing. This can often feel frustrating, like we’re moving backwards. But really, the body simply remembers and grieves on a different timeline.
Seemingly minor upsets that happen in a day might run way deeper than we think they should. For some reason, the body might need a week to recover from one tiny injury of the skin or heart.
I often think I’m “over” something that happened, but my body isn’t. For example, hair loss due to stress often occurs 2-3 months after intense periods of trauma. I experienced this in early 2021, a few months after sustained pandemic-election anxiety.
No matter how much we fight it, recovery takes as long as it takes. It can take weeks, months, or years to recover from severe stress and burnout. Anyone who has endured surgery or a broken bone knows the patience required to recover from injury.
We can’t rush recovery, reason with it, or fully understand it. Instead, we can name what it is, make space for it, and support it rather than fighting it.
So go ahead. Take that nap before the nap takes you.
Your turn:
What are you recovering from physically? Emotionally? Mentally?
Is there some aspect of recovery that you’re trying to rush or reason your way out of?
What’s one thing you can do right now to support your recovery?
You might also like…