by Aisha Ismail
What is the power in thinking about resiliency from the perspective of resting and slowing down?
I remember walking out of my OBGYN’s office the day that I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome)–a hormonal disorder that affects about 1 in 10 women of reproductive age. PCOS impacts the body in several ways, and everyone differently, but my most visible and obvious symptom was pretty severe adult acne. My OBGYN took my blood levels and gave me an idea of what was happening on the inside of my body that was ultimately causing the acne: my hormone levels were significantly higher than the average person. My body was trying to tell me something was not right.
Since then, I have been on a journey of learning about how to balance my hormones, and get my body in a state of harmony. Along the way, I learned that stress is a major trigger for my hormones to go out of whack.
You may be asking yourself what all of this has to do with resting and slowing down. Well, I am someone who is still pretty high-functioning under stress. I feel the buzz of stress in my body, but can sit on top of it and push through my day. Months ago, it wasn’t unusual for me to skip breakfast and get right to work when I had a long to-do list that was taunting me. And in college, I would say I even used stress to fuel me (where are my “I work best under approaching deadlines” people at?) And while I could function and perform under high stress and pressure, I’ve learned that not slowing down and sitting on top of the buzz of stress rather than figuring out a way to release it from my body entirely was wreaking havoc on my physical health and ultimately required me to choose productivity over self-love which impacted all other dimensions of my being.
Today, I’ve made my practices of slowing down and recovering sacred rituals. Capitalism teaches us to believe that our worth is bound up with how much we produce even when we aren’t well, when we’re navigating individual and collective traumas, when we are burnt out. But I am worthy because Allah created me. When I slow down and rest, I am making room to nurture my relationship with myself, process and recover, and recenter in my breath. Choosing to rest–in my opinion– is not only an act of self-love though, it is an act of community care. When I love myself and treat myself with compassion and care, I have more to give to everything around me: I am more present in my worship and remembrance of Allah, in the work I do in community, and in my relationships with others.
I thought that I was managing stress well, because I could move through it and still produce. But my body was telling me otherwise–it manifested itself one way or another. I can’t help but think about how Allah is inviting us to slow down and feel connected during this blessed month. To invest more of our time and energy on fulfilling our sacred responsibilities like worship of the Divine, building with and taking care of our communities, and nourishing all dimensions of ourselves. And those are the very ingredients that ensure that I am well enough–spiritually, physically, and emotionally–to remain resilient in the face of the challenges that life throws my way.
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