when relaxation isn't relaxing
identifying mental circuits that hijack our ability to rest and recover
TLDR: Sometimes we get caught up trying to do rest and relaxation “right”. In this way, it becomes another way for us to self-surveil, self-observe, and self-optimize. All of this ends up being the opposite of relaxing, and in many cases, our body will react by doing anything possible to numb the mind just to get a brief break (drinking, doom scrolling, etc.).
Why do we struggle to do things that make us feel good? I’ve been wracking my brain for an answer for the longest time.
One way this problem has manifested in my life is my struggle to stay consistent with my morning routine. I’ve spent a couple of years building up my knowledge and skills in yoga, breathwork, and meditation, and the mornings in which I go through my full 45 minute to an hour routine are wonderful and set me up for a grounded and focused day. I know this routine. I am comfortable with this routine. I feel good before and after performing this routine. So why can’t I do it every day? Why do I often wake up with no desire or intention to do it, knowing it’s going to make the rest of my day worse?
In the past, I’d answer by calling it a failure of will and character, letting the paradoxes and inexplicability of my behavior represent my inadequacy. I’d settle for that answer and just let myself feel horrible for surprisingly extended periods of time. Recently, though, I challenged myself to find the underlying coherence behind this behavior. It wouldn’t be sticky unless procrastinating on relaxing things was functional for me in some way.
So instead of just trying to explain my behavior, I tried to answer the following question:
What purpose does procrastinating on things that feel good serve me?
This is a pretty gnarly question to try to answer right off the bat. I didn’t really know where to begin, so I decided to try to figure out my relationship to these various activities that I felt would make me feel good. That led to the following prompt:
What’s the worst thing that will happen if I stop doing things that make me feel good?
This prompt is based on a technique called symptom deprivation. It helps highlight emotional truths that are foundational drivers of behavior that may not be immediately conscious. In this case, the immediate thought that came to mind is that I’ll be less healthy and my body will deteriorate.
This was telling; it became clear to me that these activities were mostly just a means to an end for me. This wasn’t all that surprising, but it was certainly interesting to feel that truth in such intensity; I always thought my natural enjoyment of those activities was more of a factor. But the fear of bodily harm far overpowered the sadness of not doing things that I enjoy.
By this point, I’d uncovered a higher level truth about myself: sometimes, even though I tell myself I enjoy doing something, I’m actually just afraid of the consequences of not doing it or doing it incorrectly.
This spawned a deeper prompt:
Are there things in my life that I don’t try to optimize?
This one had me stumped, and it’s when everything slotted into place.
For me, there’s no difference between work and relaxation. Every act of doing, whether it’s work or whether it’s something like reading, is something that a part of me believes must be optimized and done right for it to be valuable. “Relaxtion” is just a different domain where the same mental process applies. Every decision and choice is heavy; I want to get every single one right.
The procrastination fits in by giving me a break from this maniacal obsession. It is simply exhausting to be constantly trying to improve and do everything right. There is no peace and calm; even when I’m doing relaxing things, there’s a constant background process asking me if I’m doing things well enough, if I’m being present enough, if I’m healing fast enough, and so on. It is never-ending, and even though I’ve never consciously admitted I need a break, my body gives me breaks by inducing procrastination through things like doom-scrolling. It’s a self-preservation and protection mechanism.
My problem didn’t prove to be the procrastination or the choice of activity. It ended up being that constant inner voice and process, that inner achiever, that tries to hijack everything I do. It’s finally clear to me that I need to build a better relationship with that impulse.
This is something that’s new to me! The idea of not trying to optimize everything is foreign and scary, even as I’m constantly confronted with ways in which that compulsion is costing me the very things I crave. But it’s an exciting new challenge, and I’m very curious how it’ll change how I show up in the world. For me, it starts with things like:
Noticing when that inner achiever voice shows up, and gently greeting it like a partner instead of letting it take over
Giving myself permission to do things imperfectly
Breaking my inner sense of obligation towards “optimal” activities and routines
These are baby steps, and I’m sure I’m going to learn many more truths about myself along the way. But I’m excited to see where it takes me! I’ll let you all know how it goes.
I’ve had similar thoughts. Slowly but surely getting that achiever voice to talk less