Fatigue

Fatigue.

I've historically thought of this as sheerly physical.

I feel like in the past ten years or so, public consciousness about the concepts of emotional, mental and other kinds of fatigue has grown, along with the idea of needing to take care of yourself in other to best help take care of others.

Perhaps consciousness of these ideas has not exponentially grown, and these are just among the many ideas I've been better able to process as an adult. I still stand by the idea that consciousness about different types of fatigue, and how to come back better from it, has grown.

Which leads me to this: is there fatigue of memory?

This morning, I noticed, again, my tendency to associate hypnotic summer smells with my younger years, growing up at my parent's home. In a way, these associations create beautiful nostalgia for me. In other ways, they make me wonder if my memory is fatigued (or potentially lazy?) enough to just keep directing the taking in of these smells toward generalized times in my life. Memory fatigue?

Like many things, it seems to me there is a fine line between this 'memory fatigue' and nostalgia, between nostalgia and 'wishing things were like they used to be.'

I have no desire to be younger of live somewhere else, or, really, for any major components of my life to be different. I love my current life. That said, nostalgia is powerful.

And can I be blamed for feeling a generalized sense of 'wishing things were like they used to be?' The world is pretty fucked right now, and we and she are, on the whole, doing our best to grapple with the hand that has been dealt so that in the future, it doesn't feel like we are gambling, but painting with purpose.

Wishing things were like they used to be . . . clearly, not everything should remain as it was. This seems a pervasive thought, at least in my own circles and in what I take in to process what is happening. 

How do we balance the good feelings nostalgia can offer with a drive to let these hypnotic smells continue to gather positive associations? Beyond that, and perhaps more importantly, how do we recognize the potential for nostalgia to cause feelings of 'wishing things were the way/s they used to be,' and balance that with pushes to let new ways of being - that are better for ALL of us - bust up from the cracks in our psyches that seismic societal and personal shifts have caused?

I suppose my 'how' is in the right now. My own work of 'build the capacity to notice.' For me, this comes in the form of my 20-60 minute walk each morning, in which I flex my 'noticing,' or perhaps 'consciousness' muscles.

This morning, this practice allowed me this train of thought.

I've come to better-notice my own grappling with the nostalgia-fatigue-nowness-change spiral. From here, I'm going to try to use it to work toward nostalgia as positive reminders of the past, poke toward associating newness, recognition of potential fatigue, and that as reminder to examine where that fatigue lies.

I commit to positioning my own fatigue not as an enemy to overcome, but as a friend issuing reminders to keep wearing my mask, to keep distancing, to keep making choices with which I feel comfortable in the midst of a global pandemic, and to remember that my choices are not and will not be everyone elses.

I commit to positioning my own fatigue not as an enemy to overcome, but as a friend issuing reminders that it's ok to be uncomfortable amidst developing anti-racist perspectives and efforts, it's ok to be 'wrong' as long as I continue to seek 'rights,' it's ok for emotions to become unbalanced, as long as they are allowed time and space to rebalance before losing stability again (and again). It's not just ok, it's important. It's necessary for wide-ranging change that will move us toward new ways of being that can work for everyone. 

Fatigue, you are my friend.