A guide to slowing down and finding you
I grew up on a small farm in the Appalachian mountains. My life was hard but simple. The rooster crowed every morning as I groggily slipped out of bed, put on knee-high waders and went out to feed the animals.
Every time I was stressed or sad, I would throw on a pair of moccasins and run out to the forest to hear the birds singing and feel the cool wind blowing on my face and whistling through the trees. I felt instant serenity. Then I would sing, collect some berries and return to the house.
But then I moved to a big city with busy streets and busy people rushing about and talking on their phone. There was near constant movement, and I started moving right along with them. I had choir performances, longform AP English papers, history essays, science projects, plans to see movies with my brother and go to the mall with my sisters, youth leadership meetings — somehow I still had to get some sleep that week.
Although I moved further from the bustling city, college wasn’t much calmer. I got busier. I had student teaching, volunteer work, interviews, essays, speeches, job applications, housing forms and history essays (some things never change).
Then a mass shooting occurred in my hometown in one of my friend’s signature hangouts. Then a fire raged through the area. Then my mom spent many months in and out of the hospital. Then I was diagnosed with severe PTSD, anxiety, depression, OCD and an eating disorder. Relationships were broken, people were gone and life in my town was never the same. My church broke apart and I fell apart too.
I couldn’t keep up anymore. I had to slow down, but I had no idea how to. My identity was my work and helping other people. I was unsure who I was without that.
Then I started hiking, listening to the birds sing and fly overhead. I started taking time for myself and visiting places I had never been before (admittedly mostly coffee shops to get some work done). I started singing in the shower and having dance parties while I cooked my meals for the week. I found books I liked to read for fun and audiobooks for days when I had to take the metro into the city. I started self-care Saturdays when I would take a little time out to do a face mask and exfoliate my skin. I started writing poetry again.
I didn’t do these things all the time, or even very consistently, but I needed to learn how to slow down in ways that would calm my heart and my mind. There is much to say for binge watching your favorite show or watching movies all night; however, I never really felt at peace after doing those things. I just felt differently tired. Yet, all I needed was a quick walk with a mix of some music that expressed what I was going through, then some peppy music to make me feel better and I was ready to put my hair up in a bun, grab some coffee, and try again.
All of the awful things that happened still haunt me. I still struggle with depression and anxiety most days. I still feel overwhelmed. But now I know myself better than I ever did before. I know what can calm me, what I need when I am hurting, and how to make time to express myself when I need to. So now when I meet up with my brother to see a movie, meet a friend for coffee, or write a history essay, I do it with less stress and more heart.