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Digging out of a slough

Tricks to get myself moving when the body says ā€˜I want a nap.ā€™

Striping, by Carol L. Douglas

I felt fine when I got home from Scotland. Two days later, I wasnā€™t so sure, and I spent most of our lovely holiday weekend in a lawn chair with a book (except when canoeing, of course). This week, I ran an errand to Bangor with a painting student. By the time we came home, he was concerned enough to suggest that maybe he should drive.

I canā€™t decide if Iā€™m suffering from a cold, allergies, fatigue or the ennui that sometimes settles in when Iā€™m shifting gears and restless. The barrier between our mind and our bodies is whisper-thin. Like many Americans, Iā€™m so trained to keep moving that itā€™s hard to recognize when Iā€™m sick.
Parrsboro sunrise, by Carol L. Douglas
The only way I can tell is by testing my body. Over the years Iā€™ve developed strategies for catapulting myself out of a fog. Most important is routine. Every morning I write this blog, make my bed (so I canā€™t crawl back into it) and fold clothes. These tasks wake me up. Then I go down to my studio. My brain and body are conditioned to start concentrating at the same time every day.
I cannot overstress the importance of this; itā€™s why your lawyer, doctor, and insurance adjustor donā€™t have anxiety attacks every time they approach their desks. The human body loves settled routine, and thrives on regular sleep, exercise and work habits.
Tricky Mary in a Pea-Soup Fog, by Carol L. Douglas
My mother believed you would start moving if you heard a machine working, so she would start a load of laundry while she drank her morning coffee. Iā€™m afraid it doesnā€™t work for me, but it might for you.
Often what stops me is not knowing where to start. To overcome that, I play a game of ā€œput ten things away.ā€ This is win-win, because youā€™re either going to force yourself back into motion or youā€™re going to have a very neat workspace. Ten is about my limit for being thoughtful about sorting, and itā€™s better than making a commitment to clean.
Water is our bodiesā€™ principal component. It comprises about 60 percent of our body weight. We can live a surprisingly long time without food, but not without water. Fatigue can be caused by dehydration. None of us drink enough fluids when traveling, so when I come back from being on the road, I try to bring up my water intake as quickly as possible.
Marsh, by Carol L. Douglas
Current wisdom says that the basic equation for determining how much water you need is to divide your body weight in half. So, if you weigh 200 pounds, you would need 100 ounces of water per day. (I donā€™t know if this is scientifically justified.) When I drink that much, I never have the luxury of zoning out; Iā€™m always planning my next toilet stop.
My last mental jog is a brisk walk. Exercise is a proven anti-depressant and makes us more alert. Walking also gives me the mental space to plan out my next steps.
What if I do all these things and I still donā€™t feel up to working? Thatā€™s a vivid warning sign that what Iā€™m feeling isnā€™t temporary malaise but a true physical problem. I do what any sensible person would: I take some time off to recover.

What works to get you out of the doldrums?

New drug boosts creativity, cures hypertension, depression, and diabetes… and it’s free!

A young walker in the Duchy.
A Stanford studyearlier this year found that walking boosts creativity. This is a real-time effect, and it lasts during the time youā€™re walking and for a short while thereafter. It gives legs to the idea that we get our best ideas while walking.
This will come as no surprise to people who walk regularly. I have no idea how it motivates the circuitry of oneā€™s brain (any more than I understand how it massages the gut or how it strengthens back muscles) but as a lifelong walker, Iā€™m convinced it works. It certainly reduces anxiety. Iā€™m finding myself walking upwards of six miles a day this month, and itā€™s done much to assuage my grief and worry over the upheavals in my personal life.
Walking every day has the perverse effect of making me like winter more, although I’m not always keen on the way sidewalks are maintained here in Rochester.
Although Iā€™ve been a dedicated walker/runner/hiker my whole adult life, about five years ago my doctor started making noises at me about cholesterol and high blood pressure. I realized that I needed to ramp up the pace. Now itā€™s the first thing I do every day, and Iā€™m willing to spend at least two hours a day exercising.
The biggest objection people make to walking is, ā€œI donā€™t have the time.ā€ On the other hand, the average American watches five hours of television a day.
Iā€™m self-employed, so I can set my own schedule. I walk my husband to work every morning. Most married couples have very little time to talk to each other; we are guaranteed the better part of an hour together. (Since the average car in the US costs more than $9000 a year to own and operate, we save a lot of money, too.)
Later in the morning, I walk with a small posse. Who shows up varies by the day, but weā€™re all self-employed or telecommuters.
Walking is gentle on the environment. This is the annual salt collection at the side of our street after the snow melts. It’s a miracle anything grows here.
Itā€™s paid off: Iā€™m apparently the only middle-aged American who isnā€™t takingsome kind of prescription drug. Nearly 70 percent of Americans of all ages are on at least one medication, and more than half take two or more. Among women in my age cohort, a stunning one in four are taking antidepressants.
Walking is cheap. It makes you creative, it makes you happy, it gives you great gams, and it mitigates many diseases of aging like diabetes, hypertension, and high cholesterol. Why doesnā€™t everyone do it?

Message me if you want information about next yearā€™s classes and workshops.