I was talking to a few women about their noticing my hobbit ways, especially in the winter. When the clock strikes 3 pm on Friday, I disappear into my hole and begin "my R (reflect, repent, restore, repair. rejuvenate).
My belief aligns with the tear & repair theory - we try to do our best by ourselves and others. And yet, in our humanity, we create a tear in our relationship with ourselves, God, and others. Moving polepole on the weekends is where I find grace to reflect on the unaddressed "tears" (i.e., I acted harshly towards my family, didn't feed myself well, etc.) - to seek Shalom. I ask for forgiveness and make a plan to do better. And then slowly and gently repair what's torn or broke. Restore what's missing. And rejuvenate what's weary.
This can be spending extra couch cuddle time with my boys, sitting outside by the fire with Mike, making a huge Saturday breakfast, creating a new lesson plan or flow for Gather or homeschool, taking a solo hike or trail run, sitting on the couch talking to a dear friend or family member, etc. This reparation sometimes leads me to socialize amongst groups or on social media, and in those moments, I greatly relish it. But as a highly-sensitive person that works outside of my home daily, I have to be incredibly intentional about doing this too often within a week.
Dopamine Hit
I must consistently differentiate what moments are for reparation and what is about a dopamine hit. Sometimes, the quiet mundane leads to needing a bit of a "pick me up" - you know, when it all starts to feel dull, or I begin to wander into the big dark life questions, or I feel myself replaying the stabbing pain of rejection or fear, or the mourning for someone or a moment begins to get overwhelming. I look for relief - for pleasure, numbing, anything but this momentary feeling - a dopamine hit.
Thankfully, this numbing or pleasure hit doesn't equate to a hard drug, heavy alcohol, eating an entire cake myself, exercising beyond my body's max, or a dangerous sexual encounter. Although, I completely understand how evading hard things can make us reach for heavy numbing techniques and needs. My small moments of pleasure-seeking behaviors seem "harmless." Still, they are distractions that keep me from delving into the deeper sides of myself. And at times, the distractions are beautiful and deceptive, needing true discernment to peel back the layers. There is a difference between:
Having a sweet friend in your heart and contacting them vs. reaching out in avoidance or procrastination.
Going onto social media for creativity, inspiration, and fellowship vs. mindlessly seeking an escape from your life.
Asking for advice on a tough problem vs. seeking or manipulating a loved one to say what we want to hear because we don't want to sit with the question
For me, discernment is critical because, strangely enough, my imagination rests in the space after I've pushed through the discomfort of the big questions and boredom.
The quiet candlelit room beyond the hallway of distraction is where I find myself - sitting at God's feet - listening intently in complete peace and surrender.
Frog
That's why my favorite Saturdays feel like Frog in the story "The List," I write the most simple and beautiful list of this to do:
Wake up
Read & Pray
Coffee with my Love
Have a big family breakfast
Take a long walk or jog in nature
Watch a movie
Read a book
My phone stays off & in my phone cubby at the entrance of our home. This hobbit-like day is reparation at its finest.
May we all find our polepole,
Shelby
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