There are days that I don’t want to do a thing – not get out of bed, not workout, not get out of my pajamas and certainly not take care of any of my responsibilities pertaining to myself or my family.

Time Out: A bath and a drink is one way – Image: Crises_CRS

In the days before I was a parent, I heeded the warning call of the need for a “time out” and did not a bloody thing all damned day.  Those days were glorious – I stayed in pajamas, ate whatever I chose (and usually in larger amounts than I needed) and binged on movies or television all day long.  There were times I even took sick days from work to do absolutely nothing.

I have depressive tendencies and sometimes instead of fighting them, I just give in.  It isn’t productive in the sense of getting things done but it does do something.  It soothes my soul.  Removing myself from the chaos of life for a short time allows something within me to go slack(er) and clear my head of the constant buzz that are my senses working overtime (yes, an XTC quote).

This week, I really needed a “time out”.  I had been solo parenting for a number of days and the plethora of responsibilities rendered me into overload.  I wish I had the switch inside that would propel me to run or exercise when this happens.  Even the motivational sayings that cleverly promote the physical, mental and spiritual benefits of exercise do nothing to initiate the fundamental shift inside me that would the activate a healthier alternative to a “time out” from the real world.

Then I realize that my “time out” is healthy.  I’m listening to me – not the part of me that wants adrenalin, sweat, muscle development or cardiovascular conditioning but the part of me that wants and needs a special sense of zen that for me, exercise doesn’t provide.

I love being active but I also love not being active…sometimes.   As an over-analyzer, these types of days are hard.  I grapple with the desire for nothingness and the feelings of obligation to exercise.  There’s plenty of negativity.  I tune in, acknowledge the thoughts and feelings and then I move on.  Time has shown that if I give these demons their due, the vaporize but if I ignore them, they gain strength and they pull me down into the rabbit hole of depression.

So, like I do in exercise classes that are hard on my lower back, I modified.  It wasn’t a “time out” of old because the child and dog wouldn’t understand but I canceled a scheduled workout class, handled morning responsibilities pertaining to the dog and Wild Boy, did school drop-off and when I got home I made some hot chocolate, shut the curtains and the lights and sat down and watched a hell of a lot of episodes of “Parenthood”.

When school-pick up time came, I didn’t want to get up from the couch, take a shower and leave my reverie of slugdom to meet obligations but I did.  I soothed my soul a little bit and tomorrow, I think a yoga class will be in order.

Image: Mosabua

Yoga feeds me in a way no other form of exercise does.  Group Reformer Pilates classes are challenging and running can be glorious but there’s something entirely different about yoga.  Yoga really does feed me body and soul and I guess my “time out” let me know that it’s time for this dietitian to make a greater effort to be better nourished.