A few months ago, I tried acupuncture for the first time. It was mildly terrifying.
I wasn’t sure how much the needles would freak me out. (They did.)
I wasn’t sure if the needles would be painful. (Contrary to what multiple friends had told me, they were. At least in some locations, like the feet. My acupuncturist, trained in Taiwan with a doctorate in traditional Chinese medicine, said, apologetically, “If you don’t feel anything, it doesn’t really do anything.”)
Part of my problem was that once one needle hurt a little bit while going in, my muscles tensed up in anticipation of further pain, which made subsequent needles hurt more.
“Relax, relax,” my acupuncturist kept telling me.
Finally, I said, “I’m sorry, I’m finding it a little hard to relax.”
She nodded and replied, “Okay, I’ll give you something to help you relax.” And she stuck a needle in my forehead right between my eyes!
I hope this story comes across as funny. Nothing was painful in any serious way, and not for very long. And I think the needle in the forehead really did help me feel more zen. It was just such a surprise, in that second, as I realized that this was my acupuncturist’s idea of helping me feel more relaxed. A needle right in the face.
Eventually, I totally warmed up to acupuncture. It really did seem to help with my nerve pain issue.
But it took maybe six or seven sessions before I actually started to be able to relax. And a couple more sessions after that for me to realize that when my acupuncturist told me to relax, she didn’t necessarily mean emotionally or psychologically—which felt so ridiculous and impossible as she stuck needles into my body. Rather, she meant that I should literally, physically relax a particular muscle group as she stuck a needle into it. Because the needle entry is a ton less painful if that muscle is not being tensed or clenched.
I realized that I couldn’t really control the discomfort I felt around needles. But I could choose to relax one set of muscles at a time as those needles went in.
(Apologies to anyone with enough fear of needles that even reading about acupuncture is uncomfortable. We’re mostly done with the needle talk now, I promise.)
I see a lot of memes and other such internet talk about how all millennials are depressed and anxious, and of course we are, because look at this world that’s been handed to us, and what are we supposed to do with it?
Coming of age and looking for work in the economic situation we’re in. Saddled with debt from all sides. Watching climate change go haywire and knowing that the individual actions we can take to reduce our carbon footprints are not enough—but our political leaders don’t quite seem to have the will to make the more substantial policy and energy changes we need.
I don’t want to downplay the kind of anxiety that some of my friends have, where psychiatric care and medication has been super helpful. And I think there’s also the kind of anxiety most of us have if we’re paying attention—which is to say, we’re concerned about some things that are very reasonable to be concerned about. We’re taking in news all the time that puts our nerves on edge, and for good reason.
In the midst of this, how do we relax? What does it take?
I think of My Grandmother’s Hands, where therapist and trauma specialist Resmaa Menakem writes: “It’s easy to get caught up in social activism to the point where you allow yourself little or no down time. There is always much to be done—and much that needs doing. But no human body can be activated all the time. Your body’s abilities are finite. Like every other human body, it needs regular periods of rest. Listen to your body. Give it adequate rest, recovery, leisure, relaxation, and rejuvenation. Help it settle, over and over. Have a bit of fun now and then. All of this is required, not optional.” That’s a piece of wisdom, right there.
I think of Jesus sneaking off to lonely places to pray (e.g. Luke 5:16—truly inspirational, perhaps especially for the introverts among us, hi). These times of quiet and stillness must have refreshed him. They must have helped him regulate his nervous system so that he could approach his days with peace and clarity of mission.
I think of
, the Nap Bishop herself, whose Nap Ministry—and book, Rest Is Resistance—inspires me all the time. Relaxation as an act of protest in a capitalist society that would extract every drop of energy out of us. Rest as a choice available to everyone. (More thoughts and quotes here and here.)And, for those who have had a chance to read my first book, Nice Churchy Patriarchy, I’m thinking of the seashells and the seashell collectors. Of “wasting our lives” in sacred ways. I’m thinking of the moment I write about in the book when I stared at a waterfall and found myself thinking, “Perhaps God wasn’t quite as obsessed with Christianized productivity as I was.”
So here we are, with the “required, not optional” instruction to relax (Menakem). With the invitation into rest as resistance (Hersey). With the chance to rethink everything we’ve been indoctrinated with about productivity and value and the worth of a human. With the realization that perhaps we can’t change everything about what’s going on in our minds and bodies, but we can choose to relax one muscle group. And then another one. And another.
There are things we can do to help our bodies relax, heal, and recharge. We can take deep breaths. We can find a park or forest or lakeshore and walk or just sit there. We can pay attention to birds. We can take naps. We can stretch. We can ground ourselves in the present moment by intentionally noticing what’s around us, using different senses to do so. What colors do we see? What sounds do we hear?
We can do these things—and we can remind ourselves that they are worth doing.
How does all this strike you? I wonder:
Have you ever been told to relax, and how did that make you feel?
Does the distinction between finding total freedom from all anxiety vs choosing to relax our physical bodies in specific ways resonate with you?
What ways of relaxing and recharging your body and spirit are you finding helpful these days?
I’d love to hear. May we make space to rest, recover, and rejuvenate, both alone and together.
Thanks, I needed this reminder as I face another summer with scant childcare and my own (mostly internal) pressure towards productivity. I find, very often, that my physical tension is a manifestation of my mental burden. I've bitten through several night guards, after all. It's hard to let this go, but I'm working hard at learning to relax, if that's not an oxymoron 🙃