Realms that energize ⚡

Adding one more thing depends a lot on what that thing is

Taughannock Falls in Ithaca, New York

Hello, dear friends! Happy Sunday! It is less than a week until Winter Camp kicks off on Saturday, Feb. 25, and if you are thinking you might love to come, I hope you’ll join us. It’s a month of online community, with a special private space (not a Facebook group), daily emails from me with prompts, and Saturday live sessions with amazing instructors. I’ve heard from several people that they are excited to focus on their writing, so we’ll be setting up “cabins” around different topics, one for writers, one for visual artists (photographers, painters), perhaps one for cooking — let me know what area lights you up. Sign up by Feb. 22 and get a Winter Camp mug with your name on it, too.

I’m working on writing up “3 Rules of Winter Camp,” because I want to set the tone that this is a supportive, respectful, lovely community. The 3 rules I’m leaning toward are 1) Be Kind (to others, and yourself! 💕) 2) Be Open (be curious, realize that our bodies and our experiences and what helps us are all different) 3) Be Encouraging (help nudge each other and ourselves, but also give space for hard things — no shaming). What do you think?

One of the things on my mind right now, and maybe on yours, too, is how we juggle all of this. I set up Winter Camp so that I can do it while also working a full-time job and being a mom with all the family things that come along with it. But still, it is a lot. How do we decide what to add on? How do we decide what not to do?

I am a big podcast listener (side note: Krista Tippett’s spectacular podcast On Being is back!) and help produce a podcast at the nonprofit where I work, called the Gold Connection podcast. (Odyssey of the Body is separate from my work at the Gold Foundation, but sometimes I’ll share news or updates I think you might find interesting.)

For the past four weeks, we’ve been releasing episodes featuring interviews Gold Student Summer Fellows — medical students who have embarked on a summer project that supports humanistic care in underserved communities, which is supported by Gold Foundation funding.

And wow. These students. They are amazing to listen to — they care so much, and they are so passionate about their projects. Listening to them gives me hope for the future.

One thing I’ve been really struck by is how almost all of them — separately, not prompted — mention how this extra work gives them energy.

They say something like:

I wondered: Do I really have time for this? How do I do this project as a medical student, on top of everything else?

In the next breath, they say: But this GIVES me energy. This meaningful work — rather than taking tests, studying, feeling separate from patients — it fuels me.

This seems like a contradiction — adding more to your plate can add energy to your life?

But it’s so true.

And we can forget this.

Life is not a math problem.

All action is not equal.

This morning, I read a post from Anne Helen Peterson, who writes the terrific Culture Study newsletter, one of the newsletters I pay to support. She’s a journalist with a PhD in media studies who writes about how we live.

This particular post was a little different, because she was writing personally about how she was feeling overwhelmed by “A Real Laundry Apocalypse of a Week.” While she intended to write up an analysis of Spirit Days, (“holidays, but also "100 Days of School,” dress like you’re Adam Sandler, etc. etc)” in today’s newsletter, she wrote: “I needed more time to do it right, and that reality was giving me that sourish stomach feeling I associate with general life miscalculation.”

She continued:

“I kept thinking: if I hadn’t gone skiing (something that gives me truly childish joy!) last weekend; if I hadn’t hung out with my friends on Sunday; if I hadn’t spent two hours taking care of my friends’ kids after school on Tuesday; if I hadn’t decided to train for this race (which gave me the opportunity to see that view in the photo at the top); if I had effectively evacuated my life of all familial and friendship and community commitments, then I’d have been fine.

“The work would’ve been done. But I’ve already tried that whittled-down version of a life, and it’s not a life at all. It’s a burnout trap, a suffocation, a flattening of self. Sure, I’d have completed all the work, done all the tasks, finished all the laundry. But to what end? And to what future?

Oof. I have felt this, too. Have you?

All of the tasks, all of the seemingly essential bits, all of the things that HAVE TO GET DONE.

And yet, then what? For what?

Anne writes at the end:

“I don’t need to stop taking care of my friends’ kids, or stop running, or stop having dogs, or stop skiing in order to make this all [waves hands wildly] fall into place. I just need to be vigilant about not taking on more work than I can reconcile with the rest of my life. The work matters; the work is important; the work is wonderful. But the work is not enough.

“It’s taken me years to understand that. A full life can be glorious. But when it becomes so full you’re in constant fear of collapse, you’ve got to let go or give away some of what you’re carrying. For most of us, the thing that’s easiest to jettison is the thing that’s most precious to you — because letting it go ostensibly affects you and you alone. A hobby, a personal goal, a book club, a walk, a nap, all so readily sacrificed. But those are the things that allow us to stand up straight as we carry the weight of everyday annoyances and tasks. They are the counter-balance. They are essential. We cannot mistake the ease with they can be put down with disposability.”

YES.

I read this last paragraph multiple times.

It may seem like these two examples — the joy medical students find in a project that helps patients, and the joy a writer finds in her hobbies and friends — are miles apart.

But these are realms that are precious. Seemingly optional. But essential to a happy and energizing life.

Realms that fuel us. Realms that restore us.

What realms energize you?

It might be a summer project, or volunteering, or time with friends. It might be creating (or attending) something like Winter Camp. It might be a book, or a trip, or a phone call, or a hot bath.

When we miss these, we start to feel spent, drained, overwhelmed.

We all need realms that are meaningful and joyful to us — that give us energy, rather than take it away.

What are those realms for you?

To our journeys,

Brianne