Permission To Be Tired

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

—Psalm 46:10

A few years ago, I traveled and spoke quite frequently over a three-month period. As the weeks wore on, I found myself feeling frayed, tired, scraped away. The question I couldn’t answer was what it looked like to take care of myself during that season of heavy travel. When I was home between trips, I cooked, threw parties, called/texted/e-mailed, read, went out for dinner, shopped. But I didn’t really stop, listen, feel. When I did, it scared me a little.

I felt like my rough edges were showing all the time. I didn’t like how my anger was flaring out like an automatic weapon at the smallest inconveniences. I was unbelievably productive, but even when I was tired, I was still consuming—wine, shows, magazines, books. I lost my ability to slow down.

When I’m hungry, lots of times what I want more than food is an external voice to say, “You’ve done enough. It’s okay to be tired. You can take a break. I’ll take care of you. I see how hard you’re trying.” The work I’m doing now is to speak those words for myself, to give myself permission to be tired, to be weak, to need.