I SPENT LAST WEEK IN THE BALI RAINFOREST ON A NATURE AND YOGA RETREAT. PLEASE DON’T ASK ME IF I’M RELAXED.
Before you are like all “b*tch please, you just spent a week doing yoga and meditation in pristine rainforest eating organic food lovingly prepared from scratch each day… “, hear me out…
There is something in our preoccupation with being relaxed that I suspect causes us more harm than good.
What IS our cultural obsession with relaxation? And why do I get so crazy when people ask me if I’m feeling relaxed?
Granted, I have a wild aversion to holidays and rest-taking in general thanks to my workaholic parents and possibly their workaholic parents before them. Couple that with my own striving for personal growth bandwagon and you’re likely to find me on a random road-trip through a flooding river in a hybrid vehicle, or some radical act of self-discovery. Less lying still, more litres of adrenaline and “isn't this exciting!” or “plot twist!”
I am also in the first year of running a new business, so the urge for my inner-critic/family-ghosts to whisper “don't you think it’s a little cavalier of you to spend time relaxing young lady?” is all too real.
Having spent the few days since I returned flinching every time someone asked me how relaxed I was now feeling, I got curious and asked myself why it bothered me so much. Once upon a time it would have been because being “relaxed” implied I wasn’t busy every single moment of the day. But since stepping off the busy-train and refusing to wear the inevitable burnout-as-badge-of-honour in this end-stage capitalist world of ours, I realised it probably wasn’t that.
Whilst I gave myself some time to figure it out, I tried to smile and reply blithely “It was a wonderful trip. Some bits of it were very …err…relaxing”.
And I realised, that was it. Some bits of the trip were really relaxing. Other parts were stressful, exciting, exhausting, illuminating, exhilarating, and countless other fleeting states.
And that was okay. In fact, that was perfect. Because relaxation occurs and then un-occurs. It is not a permanent state of being.
But don’t we obsess about it. Clinging to it when it is there. Reaching longingly for it when it’s gone. All the time. And our cultural expectations for endless summers (literal and figurative) leave us sad and disappointed in ourselves that somehow, we could not make it stick around longer.
When we collectively uphold relaxation as this sought-after, destination-state, it acquires premium social status and most worryingly, an expectation of permanence. As if being relaxed is somehow the possible expression of humanity. Part of the “forever” blockbuster trilogy with its equally ephemeral mates happiness and wellbeing.
“Oh, you’re back from Bali. You must be RELAXED”
“Oh you’re not? What’s WRONG with YOU?”
If only we could bring relaxation back down off its lofty aspirational pedestal away from the treacherous territory of dissatisfaction, disappointment, desperation, and failure, and let it sit in the comfy chairs with all the other autonomic states.
My mate Tessa (the incomparable Tessa Leon, Founder of Human.Kind Studios) and I both like to bring to people’s attention that humans don’t breathe, they are breathed. Assuming a functioning nervous system, the body breathes itself. And relaxes itself. And pumps its own heart and muscles. Tension-release. In-out. Up-down. Wow.
We humans harbour an odd sense of our own importance and obsess about taking control of automatic things, thinking that we must make them happen. And that leads to worry and other nasties as we wrestle to control things that don’t require or optimally function if we do exert control.
The physical process of relaxation (resting, making something less, tight, stiff, or strict) is a function of all biomechanics and eco-systems. It is a tool that allows regeneration, nourishment, and optimal performance. It is a necessary part of any system where multiple factors co-exist. Muscles shorten and lengthen or act as agonist or antagonist; Fascia holds firm but allows glide; Nervous systems cycle up and down according to environment and risk. Necessary patterns of tension and release. A beautiful, lyrical momentum. Complex systems doing what complex systems do.
The social or emotional process of relaxation is something else. It tends to be defined by the absence of things as much as by the presence.
Words that could be heard at the breakfast table and floating around the yoga shala were things like:
· Silence
· Stillness
· Space
· Meaningful, mindful connection. To ourselves, to others, to our food, and our world.
I like to think of these collectively as the plugged-in or connection qualities.
These are the states that restore and revive our soul, reset our emotional equilibrium, and energise us.
To understand that we need both the physical and the connection parts to truly feel relaxed is to gain huge insight and agency over the rollercoaster of the human experience.
My retreat in Bali certainly involved moments of unfurling, unwinding, releasing, and resting, but it was so so much more than that. It was a precious and beautiful set of experiences that left me feeling connected, restored, revitalised, and clear-sighted. My body was rested, my nervous system and mind were (reasonably) calmed, and I felt excited to return to the real world and be my best self.
So next time you ask me if I’m relaxed, I’ll probably answer by telling you how I’m connected.
Dawn over the padi. Bali Eco Stay, July 20239 things I learned & re-learned on retreat:
I didn’t need to switch off. I needed to switch on. To plug in. Revitalisation comes from plugging-in. The energy source we seek is found from connection to nature, simplicity, and the giving and taking of space.
Removing ourselves from the “everyday” is a powerful tool to change perspective. Whether it’s the optimism of an island economy bouncing back from COVID, a currency in which a 100 tourist bucks becomes a million, or staying on a permaculture farm and only eating what you grow. The wide world out there invariably forces us to realise that fortunes and opportunities of birth, race, and gender are real - especially in 2023.
Creating time and space is necessary if we want things to be different. This skinsuit that we call home, made mostly of water and thoughts, is probably more of a snazzy beaker than an autonomous being. It takes patience and trust to create the right conditions for change to occur. As the vessel becomes still, the swirling water settles and we can see a little more clearly. Only then can we know how much to tip out to make space for something new.
Simplicity is quite possibly the key to happiness or at least peacefulness.
When you think you know what’s possible, you don’t. I contorted my body into wild new shapes, traversed exhilarating terrain, and luxuriated in silence. The only real limit I encountered was my own expectations.
Humans are loud. Nature is louder. And letting it all wash over you drowns out the internal chatter.
If you want to feel peaceful. Be quiet and listen. If you want to find connection. Be quiet and listen.
Walk your talk. Each day spent living in alignment with my personal values and showing up with kindness, respect and integrity, is an act of service for myself and the world around me.
Relaxation is a necessary function of biomechanics and nature, not a behavioural trait or a holiday destination.
The Takeaways..
What surprised me
Fireflies are just the best.
Most things are possible with time and patience, including Baby Grasshopper.
I can get up early everyday... if only I go to bed!!
What inspired me
The people. The adventurers, the advocates, the artists.
Kindness. Every day, hundreds of tiny acts.
What I heard
Nature in all her glory. Roaring water, endless rain. Creatures sing out to each other day and night and night and day. The kind of sounds you hear when humans are the minority. Laughter. So much laughter. Shrieks and peals of giggles from the yoga shala. Animated conversations. Deep conversations. Deep listening. I listened without having to answer.
What I saw
Green – as far as the eye could see. Fireflies. Kindness. Abundance. Eden.
What I remembered
That this world of ours and all the creatures in it are little and not so little miracles. Bundles of electricity and possibility just daring to exist.
What I forgot
How loud nature is when humans can’t drown it out.
What I brought with me
Just enough yoga gear but not enough shoes.
What I take away
Infinite possibilities.
