Journaling Rest - Out of Office, Into Myself
Entry 3 – Just Because
When I set out to journal my season of rest, my intention was to dive deep into the work of recovery and the slow, deliberate process of unbecoming. I knew I needed to be truthful to myself and to the universe and surrender to wherever my curiosity might lead. No one to impress, just my bare truths staring back at me in typed form on my computer.
What I didn’t expect so early after declaring this bold intention, was the pressure to make my journaling feel meaningful or impactful. Since my last post, I’ve struggled to find something ‘worthy’ to write about - not because I haven’t had moments during this transition, but because they didn’t feel ‘deep’ or ‘sexy’ enough. I guess it comes with the territory of being nurtured to be productive, shaped by a kind of commercialized thinking where everything must be packaged for consumption or purchase.
Part of the struggle is that I’m still employed. A twist of fate extended my time at work leaving me in a state of not fully “at work,” and not fully at rest. Things happen around me, but I’m neither an invested spectator nor an active player. This feeling, which I’ve been carrying for almost a year, I recently learned has a name; senioritis. It's a strange kind of disconnect when you’re already halfway out the door but still must wait for the signal to step out. And the feeling hasn’t just stayed at work; it’s seeped into other areas of my life; family, friendships, dating, even spirituality.
For a turbulent work season, my exit has been surprisingly soft. My employer has been gracious allowing me to work remotely and focus only on priority tasks. Yet my nervous system isn’t used to calmness, presence and faith. Often, I don’t quite know how to feel about the gift I currently have - the gift of simply being.
In the last weeks of July, I took a vacation and used it to close chapters from the past decade of working life. One day, I managed a half-day reflection by the beach, though it was hardly enough to seal the chapter. Still, it offered me the space to pause, take stock, and honour my journey over the past 8 years.
The nonchalant attitude of the water, sometimes crashing and sometimes landing softly on the shore, and the relaxed, happy-go-lucky rhythm of life that seemed to move with the waves reminded me that not everything needs a profound meaning or grand explanation. Waves meet the shore simply because it is the nature of the ocean, not because of any hidden message. A leaf drifts from a tree just because. And sometimes, a stranger in a club will declare his undying love within minutes of meeting me… also just because.
My next post will take a more technical turn, reflecting on what led me to disconnect from my job and the few regrets I carry about what I would have done differently, though not necessarily better.