After emerging from a deep, dark six-year battle with anxiety and obsessive panic (more on this in my blog post titled, "My Story: Peace Restored,") I stopped to take an honest self-assessment of the condition of my body and soul. I had become completely and entirely depleted... emptied of all joy, creativity, clear thought. I knew I desperately needed to be re-fueled. I brought that emptiness to God, and right away, I began to sense Him using ordinary things to gradually fill me up again. It was kind of like experiencing life again -- for the first time. It was sobering to discover that I had very few memories from those prior six years. From this place, freshly through the tunnel of fear, I was able to realize, I had been so consumed by fear that I hadn't really experienced anything else.
I realized, too, the muscles in my face and shoulders had been tightened into what had been like a permanent contraction, holding my emotional stress in my physical body. Somehow, fear had so overwhelmed me that I didn't even notice this manifestation until I'd reached the other side. Slowly, with each passing day, I began to feel these muscles releasing the tension and beginning to move naturally again. And breathing... Wow, such a gift: to be able to inhale deeply and breathe out in true release... I had spent too much time taking short, shallow breaths like someone hiding in a closet from an intruder.
I began to feel peace and hope returning to me, like blood circulation in a way. Have you ever sat on your foot and cut off the blood flow? As you adjust your position, you can feel the blood start flowing again and that tingly feeling beginning to fade. The sensation isn't exactly comfortable, but for me, it was comforting because I had hope for the first time in far too long, that I would be able to 'walk without limping' again soon.
In the days and weeks and months that followed, I began to develop a list of things that were restoring me. Some of these may, at first glance, appear to be ordinary things, but for my empty and broken spirit, each one was an experiential gift God poured like healing ointment into the deepest places of my inner being. Each of these has very literally become Soul Fuel. In my journal, I titled this list, "What Fuels The Soul."
Barefeet... the earth beneath my feet. The ocean. A quiet stream. Big trees with leafy branches. A blank page. A page of familiar words. A new book. A tight hug that lasts just a little bit longer than I thought. Laughing. Seeking out jokes and funny things to laugh about -- on purpose! (Why not? Ha!) Sitting quietly with someone I love. Singing, dancing, writing. Reading a children's book. The smells of nature: flowers and plants, dirt and rain. The way a fresh cup of coffee smells... and how that morning routine enriches my day. Gazing up toward the stars. Warm sun on my skin, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves, grass between my toes. The excited sounds of toddler as she discovers a patch of daisies for making chains. A good debate. Finding common ground with those with whom I disagree. Enforcing healthy boundaries with myself and others. Doing my make-up; choosing not to wear make-up. My family. Friends who have become like family. Taking care of plants. The Bible: God's Word gives me energy and clarity, and life like nothing else on earth. Participating in a weekly Bible Study with a small group of other women. Generosity. Painting. Learning something new. Touching materials of different textures. Black-out poetry. Essential oils. Singing. Taking care of my feet. Blessing others. Blessing myself. Admitting my faults. Flower arranging. Indulging occasionally and strategically in certain forbidden foods - and rejecting guilt. Activism. Connecting with a coach/ mentor/ counselor. Wearing my favorite earrings. Listening to my body. Prayer. Screaming at the top of my lungs. Honoring myself. Fully engaging in what I'm experiencing. Smiling at a stranger. Dancing. Chiropractic adjustment (for you, this might be acupuncture or a massage.) A sound bath. Taking the time to eat well. Sacrifice: give something up. Smelling flowers. Leaving an extravagant tip. Waking up early to watch the sunrise. Saying "no" or "yes" strategically - trying out the opposite of my default. Swimming. Playing a competitive game. Soaking my feet in the ocean. Baking. Nostalgia (playing with silly putty! Ha!) Watching the clouds. Listening to the birds. Sensory focus: the sand between my toes; the different colors of each grain; the way it sparkles in the sun. Lying beneath a tree and looking up through the branches. Holding a newborn baby. Walking in the rain. Writing a letter and mailing it. Sitting in silence. A candle-light bath. A picnic on my favorite quilt. Laughter. Volunteering.
