I have seen and heard a lot of exhaustion in the circles where I am.
I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I lack energy and patience.
Same, girl, same.
I ask myself a lot of questions about this in a time when there is so much stimulation. So much caffeine. So many interactions.
There are people everywhere, even if they are not in the room with me. There are opinions, arguments, celebrations and horrors every time I open my computer, my phone, etc.
It makes sense to be tired. The human body wasn’t really designed to have THAT much all the time.
Let’s go back to some basics and some clarity, as it is on the mark for the Virgo season.
Going to the floor to deal with exhaustion
The first time I went to the Reclaiming Spiral Dance, I was helping set up an altar before the ritual began. I was exhausted and the ritual was still hours away. Someone sat next to me, I had to complain, and they asked me if I was being punished.
Now, I had only been working with Reclaiming for a few years and really understood the basics of a solid magical practice. I had taken classes, knew some things, and done public rituals, but my personal skills were still not consistent.
Grounding? Why would this be useful?
They reminded me that running out of all my energy was probably the reason I was so tired. They reminded me that when I am grounded, I can tap into the energy of the earth and the stars to help me be connected – and powered. I don’t need to use all MY energy to do things.
I could be held back by forces around me.
Now whenever I feel tired I check how grounded I am. Am I driving so hard that I empty my tank? What would it be like to reconnect with earth and sky? Can I put my feet on the ground? Can I reach out my arms to the clouds?
Can I take a deep breath and see if I’m trying to do it all (again!)?
Release to make room for energy
But it’s not just about giving all my energy. It’s also about clinging to things that I no longer need to cling to.
Stories. Beliefs. Things that are not mine to wear.
Things that don’t belong to me anymore.
If that seems to be the cause of fatigue, I turn to cleaning and journaling.
I go to the water. Water from showers and oceans. Water from a full bottle that I sip throughout the day. The water of tears. The water from the dishes. The water to (finally) give my plants to drink.
I go to a journal or my notes app. I say the things that need to be said. I tell things in places where no one could ever read them.
I give the ideas and the worries and the wonders to the pages that seem to be perfect witnesses. Compassionate collectors of my entrails. Digital antechambers for the things I need to say.
Letting go is not forgetting. It’s unleashing. It is lightening a load. Lots of loads.
All of this to return to the energy that is you. Dump.
And as the Burdens return – often dressed in new clothes and new intentions – they seem less like strangers or intruders in your growing recognition.
Oh, you’re still here. I remember you as exhausting and hard to reject.
Let me do things to come back to myself. Earth, cleaning, newspaper. In that order or not.
One at a time. Or all at once.
Or until I find the perfect word to banish exhaustion. For this moment, anyway.