I Thought It Was Jet Lag

The Wedding Tree

I woke up this morning feeling more like myself.

Thank God.

Not dramatically different. Just a little clearer.

For the last few days, I've been blaming jet lag.

Now before anyone tells me Wyoming is only two hours behind Pennsylvania, I know. Trust me, I've already had that conversation with myself.

The funny thing is, I don't think jet lag was ever the real issue.

My logical mind knew exactly what was happening.

We had traveled.

There were early flights and delays.

We crossed time zones, with an almost three- year- old in tow.

We spent a week celebrating our daughter's wedding and soaking up every minute of it.

Of course I was tired.

And yet...

I kept hearing this familiar chatter. Or perhaps “noise” is a better word.

"Come on, Teresa."

"You should be over this by now."

"You should be getting more done."

"You should have the floors mopped."

"You should be further along than this."

"You should be handling this better."

There it was.

That word.

Should.

Should.

Should.

I was should-ing all over myself.

And the irony wasn’t lost on me.

If my husband Chuck had said some of those things to me, I know exactly where I’d have told him to go.

But when those same words come from inside my own head, I don't always question them.

Sometimes I invite them in and ask them to stay awhile.

I started out trying to understand why I felt so exhausted.

Instead, I bumped into a very old, very familiar pattern.

And that's the thing about healing.

Growth isn’t measured by whether an old pattern ever shows up again.

It’s measured by how quickly I recognize it when it does.

The more I sat with it, the more I realized that underneath all of it was a familiar feeling.

A little guilt.

A little shame.

A little dissatisfaction.

A quiet sense that I should somehow be doing better.

A whisper that says:

"A better version of you would be handling this better."

Oof.

Now that's worth paying attention to.

Because who is this better version of me exactly?

The one who never gets tired?

The one whose house is always clean?

The one who never falls behind?

The one who comes home from a wedding, crosses time zones, helps care for a grandson, and bounces right back without missing a beat?

I'd like to meet her.

She sounds utterly exhausting.

I've spent most of my life trying to become her.

Looking closer, I realized that underneath the fatigue was an old belief system.

The belief that rest has to be earned.

The belief that productivity equals worth.

The belief that if I'm not accomplishing something, I should at least feel guilty about it.

A few years ago, I would have believed that noise.

I would have assumed something was wrong with me.

Today, I notice it for what it is.

I didn't automatically agree with it.

And that, my friends, feels like healing to me.

Not that the old patterns never show up.

I just recognize them sooner.

This morning the fog has lifted.

The headache is gone.

My energy feels better.

And the chatter has quieted.

The truth is, I rested.

I listened.

I gave my body a chance to catch up with my life.

I was tired.

And that is enough.

—Teresa R. Hower