The Gulf Stream. Winslow Homer.

Sometimes our 100% is just enough to eat and be.

We’re not machines. Our capacity waxes and wanes.

Joshua Burkhart

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I hear it all the time with clients, with myself, “I’m not at my best, my 100%.”

When it’s someone else it’s easier to remind them that sometimes our best is just enough to get through the day.

The greatest heresy of the human condition is to think of ourselves as a machine, always capable of the same productivity.

That just isn’t how our bodies work, how our minds work.

We have limited resources.

Focus and awareness are dependent on at least four different neurotransmitters: noradrenaline (norepinephrine depending on where in the world), dopamine, serotonin, and acetylcholine.

Our bioavailability of these chemicals shifts and changes throughout the day. Our blood sugar and energy reserves shit based on the time of day, what we’ve eaten, the season, our exposure to light.

Hormones are constantly fluctuating. Testosterone which is linked to drive is higher in the morning, affected by sleep, by diet, by the world around us.

We’re not machines, we’re organic, we have tides that come and go. Some days we’re capable of a lot more than others.

We adapt to the world around us.

A machine requires a controlled environment or else it breaks down.

No supercomputer will function in the Sahara. Machines in the ocean break down under the harsh conditions.

Humans have had to adapt. We may not reach our maximum potential in the blistering heat of the Sahara or adrift at sea but we survive longer than a machine would because our tides come and go and adapt to the environment around us.

We rest during the blistering day, we travel at night. Our body and habits adapt to the salt and wind of the ocean.

It’s important to recognize our limitations and give ourselves room to be in our low tide when our 100% is only enough to get through the day.

I’m having one of those days.

While I have resented times like these in the past I’m trying to flow with it, embrace it. I realize that this low tide will be followed by a high tide and plenty of productivity.

I know myself enough to know this state isn’t permanent.

So I’m giving myself permission to ache a bit. Giving myself permission to veg out. When I feel the energy inside stir and my conscious focus I do what I can, check off the small tasks of my day: organize my calendar, do some research, write an article.

Rather than lament the day I focus on the small things I can enjoy. The vinegar taste of the kombucha here and how much the sourness contrasts with the lull of the day.

I put on some music and sang along. Enjoyed how I can feel into the music and experience the tide lift with the beat or a chorus. I treasure these moments because I have lived years without being able to recognize them.

Years in the low tide, dreading that I’d never get out. In its own way, this dread kept me there longer. Our resistance to our down days drains the limited energy that we have.

I have alternative experience now, the memory to know that I do always get out, that the tide does turn.

Yang follows Yin and Yin will follow yang.

What about you?

Do you give yourself permission for your waxing and waning? Do you conserve your energy by simply embracing or do you worry it away in trying to fight your own weariness?

Love and share.

I’m starting something new. Writing every day as I put my random thoughts down on binary paper.

If you’d like to join me on this journey you can sign up for my email list here. I share thoughts, tips, adventures, and goodies.

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