Rest, buffering, checking out. What’s the difference?
Musings on our internal states
Well, last week’s newsletter was a bit of a hit — thank you so much for your comments and emails. I really appreciated learning how everyone manages and visualises their energy!
Today’s newsletter is a bit of an extension on the same theme, and it’s inspired by one of my clients, Ashlynn Andersen — who is an amazing yoga teacher, artist, and all-round human being — and our discussion on 'checking out,' 'buffering,' and rest.
What, for you, is the difference between checking out, buffering, and rest?
I asked Ashlynn this question, and their on-the-spot answers were:
Checking out = escapism, and escaping responsibility.
Buffering = integration time. Shoogling. (Which, if you don’t know, is a Scottish word for shaking or swaying. I’ve used it a couple of times in this newsletter, and I tend to use it as a way of describing a movement that isn’t always elegant or certain, but can be necessary to help us find the place we want to be.)
Rest = something that fills me. Something that helps me expand my capacity.
I share these answers here (with Ashlynn’s permission) because I love them; because they invite me into the experience of each state.
Checking out isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We all want to avoid responsibility at times. We all want to escape. Buffering is integration. It’s time that’s required for us to process; to 'download.' And of course, rest isn’t a bad thing — but we all need to experience this for ourselves as something that is real and lived; rather than just a platitude.
Currently I have a puzzle app on my phone (it’s specifically nonograms, or Hanjie puzzles) that I use for a bit of 'checking out' and going on what sometimes feels like 'standby mode.' It’s not deep rest. It’s not going to expand my capacity. But it does provide me time to unwind.
The key for me in using it is to make sure I’m aware of when 'mildly relaxing' turns into 'now this feels a bit hollow.'
When I start to feel hollow is the time I get off the app. (And I know this is easier said than done. But I’ve realised the more I pay attention to my internal state while using the app, the quicker I detect the beginning of that hollow feeling… and the quicker I get off the app.)
Another classic example of 'app that facilitates various states' is Instagram. We may use it to check in and connect with people. We may use it in a way that makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. We may use it to feel purposeful. And then, at some point, we probably begin to notice that it feels less like rest or even buffering, and more like a deadening numbing. The inescapable doomscroll.
None of these activities or states are inherently wrong. Sometimes we might beat ourselves up for spending too long in one state — and obviously, historically none of these states have been acceptable when we compare them to the 'producing state' of capitalism. But sometimes, we just need time to process things.
I used to view my life and the activities in it as either 'productive' or 'not productive.' It was almost like my days and weeks led up to and crescendoed in 'productive things.'
'Productive' were the things that counted. They were the main event. They were what you put in your calendar; you built your calendar around them.
Only recently have I managed to conceive of my day-to-day existence, and also my scheduling, as anything different. In all honesty, I can’t explain exactly what this difference is; but it feels less like my work output is the main event. It now feels more like these events are spread and woven into my weekly rhythms. To be a bit clichéd, they’re part of the tapestry of my life. But they are not the road that runs through it.
If we were to go back to the colour coding system I mentioned in last week’s newsletter, I guess it’s the difference between a calendar that was a giant block of red for each day (with a couple of green bits bookending either side), and a calendar that allows for a rainbow of colours. All the colours of the rainbow; representing different aspects, different moods, different interests.
As I said, I’ve only come to notice and feel like this recently. So I’m under no illusions as to how long it takes to even begin to think there could be another way. But what I like about sharing out loud is that it might spark something in whoever reads this. You might not see things exactly the same way I do, but I’d love to know what it makes you curious about.
Do you let me know if you feel like it :)
Until next week,
Kathryn
PS. If you’d like to work together and think now might be a good time to enquire, it is! I’d encourage you to get in touch because I’ll be increasing my prices in June. It won’t be a huge increase, but if you’d like to lock in the current rate, just drop me a line. We can always arrange exactly when you would start. I’m going to be away in July, so if you wanted to arrange something now, and start coaching after the summer, that could work well. Either way, if you have any questions just get in touch.
I remember, years ago, reading an interview with the mathematician Marcus Du Sautoy, in which he said (I'm paraphrasing here) "I spend a lot of time looking like I'm just staring into space doing nothing, but actually I'm sorting loads of things through in my head" and I thought YES! - now I have a description for it when I'm accused of 'day dreaming'. This is what I see buffering as, it's processing during which you can't have "all systems on" but just wait for the little blue circle to gently spin, if we keep the computer analogy going 😄
Love that concept of buffering. It sounds to me like the kind of time I crave, where I am not “doing” much but I have mental space to let things percolate, to reflect, to come to terms. This is the space where the glimmers that become ideas first surface.