the extraordinary ordinary

is there anyone who isn't tired

I am tired in a molecular sense.

If that sentence means anything to you, perhaps you too are tired in the same way.

People have tried to describe it. Adam Grant called it languishing. TikTok called it goblin mode.

It has been accredited to the pandemic, political polarity, pressing climate disasters, the wars, gun violence, more things than I can bear to list. I’m exhausted even thinking of them.

I’m in a summer slump.

Maybe the heat broke something in me, or the fatigue of these months that turned into years finally wore me out.

But I’m tired.

I don’t want to do my fifteen-step morning routine. I want to hibernate.

This week I’ve slowed all the way down. I’ve been sleeping as much as I can. I’ve been delayed responding to messages, if at all.

Creating some insulation from the outside noise has helped. Like redirecting a lighthouse inward, I’ve started to notice the little things in my day-to-day.

Going for a walk without looking at my phone.

Watching how happy a cat is sleeping in their new bed.

Calling a friend on their birthday.

I think about how special it is when my boyfriend brushes my hair. Is there anything sweeter?

There is extraordinary in ordinary things.

For example, this week I went to the movies.

I don’t think I’ve been in a movie theater since I was in high school. I got butterflies when my boyfriend and I brushed hands reaching for the same piece of popcorn. We whispered and shushed each other. I felt like a kid.

It was such a simple and delightful way to spend the evening. I couldn’t multi-task. I could only do one thing.

I felt a similar feeling today when I returned to a yoga class after two months without going to workout classes. It was hard, harder than I’d care to admit. But it was so difficult that I couldn’t think about anything else during it. In that way, it was freeing.

I don’t have any answers about how to lessen the languishing and I’m not completely out of my slump. But what I have learned is that there are more good things in a day than I was originally paying attention to.

I’m putting one foot in front of the other and that’s what I’m celebrating this week.

What I can say is that I notice a lot more on my quiet walks than when I’ve been running.

There is extraordinary in the ordinary. I just had to slow down to see it.