Kind Moon is a coaching and facilitation practice, led by Rob Douglas, with a range of offerings from preparation/integration coaching, tea sessions, mindfulness practices, and beyond. Integration coaching supports individuals seeking self-guided processes for presence with significant and transformative experiences (from retreats, sacred medicine ceremonies, or major life transitions). To learn more about how Kind Moon aligns with your intentions, please book a free discovery call or reach out via the Kind Moon website.
A major theme, regularly showing up in facilitation spaces, is: letting go. Typically, this is held within the confounding paradox of the act of letting go is not one of effort. For some, this is a single, pivotal moment in their journey; while for others, letting go is a series of small and repeated steps on a much larger staircase. Either way, letting go seems to arrive with complexity. As a recent coaching partner said to me, “This feels like both the most easy and difficult thing. How do I let go of control, without trying to control the situation?”
Before we dive into the question of releasing it, let’s begin with stating control’s value and importance. I believe that we are all meant to understand and practice control, power, command, autonomy, and sovereignty. And, the realm of that kingdom (over which we are entitled to keep reign) is immense. It holds untold expanses and still undiscovered mysteries. It is vast as it is deep. It stretches from the one ear to the next, from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet, far into the most hidden feelings of your heart, and all throughout your expansive consciousness. No other being owns those epic lands, seas, and skies than you. And, you have every right to access and determine what is welcomed within and what may pass through. Nobody else has claim to any part of that world. You are in control.
AND YET (sorry), I tend toward belief that control is an illusion, even within that supremely sacred authority of selfhood. So now, we meet another confounding paradox living in that balanced tension of “yes, and.” Perhaps, the source of resolution where this conflicting logic finds peace (when we are in control of self and yet accept our lack of control; where we enact letting go and yet are non-actioned) requires wading into waters of mystery and “living into the questions”1 (which we touched into during my introduction post). We are at the whims of crashing waves and twirling winds, both literally in the physical world and metaphorically in the cosmos of our consciousness. While we cannot stop these forces, there may just be a way to flow and ride along with them. Heady stuff that bears pausing before going too deep. I’ll let you consider what may feel true in this.
Have you found some room for the unknown? Take your time as we are going to let that pause have more space. I am not totally shifting gears but I will say: there is not much one can offer when defining paradox. You can talk around it, circling the boundaries (only to discover its boundlessness) or reach to touch a point along the way (only to find that point is a moving river, never the same). My sense is that paradox just needs to be observed and felt. And then, at some point, you have to decide: will you let it be or do you need to tip the scale in one direction? That is a personal matter, all for you and you alone.
Instead, while those ideas marinate, we are going to carry forward into bringing ourselves right up to the precipices of these contradictions: actively letting go, controllessness, inaction, and control. And the modality, which allows for paradox to exist and for our minds to easefully traverse these tightroped tensions, is: rest.2 Rest gives us the capacity and resourcefulness to live into the weird and complex. Rest gives us the spaciousness to explore beyond fixed bounds. And, my favorite aspect of all, rest feels good.
If you are new to the offerings of Kind Moon, then you may not yet know that the pillars of my work are: safety, trust, and rest. This will not be the last time you read that either. I believe each of those help create a confidently held container for facilitations and ceremonies of all kinds. And, my personal ethic is very committed to exploring how to continually improve access to each through co-creation with participants. I would love to share about safety and trust too (you can guess where some future posts are going). For today, we are resting into rest.
The rest we are touching into today is not sleep.3 This rest is much more, one of finding a healing and rejuvenating state of being. Rest that helps prepare one for transformational experiences, radical acceptance, or meeting self compassionately, when we are fortunate enough to witness our nervous systems drop down into a grounded presence.4 And, this rest is something that is available to access no matter where you are or what you are doing.
This all ties into my own story. I struggle with consistent and longstanding insomnia. I am also no stranger to the nebulous cloud that we call autoimmune diseases. I hear the language often (many times from my own mouth) about “fighting fatigue” and “working on recovery.” The irony of those phrases is not lost on me. And, over time, I found that forcing rest has not served my needs. Battling myself (be it through determined effort, critical judgment, or refusal to embrace acceptance) to get to a healing space led me right back to where I started. Nor have I found any aid from evasion or running away from my physical and mental needs. Embattled or avoidant, my healing path saw little change and my exhaustion grew greater over the years. All the while, the voices (real or projected) around me kept saying, “push harder, be better, forge your own success, and always be growing. More, more, more is the way.” I assume that I am not the only one who has felt trapped in a culture where simply pausing or letting oneself rest were not celebrated or virtuous approaches.
When I talk about rest, I am talking about the state in which we allow ourselves to turn down the volume of that culture of “success” and “growth” to hear our own selves more clearly. Rest is giving calm to a nervous system running at high alert and relieving hypervigilance against the anxieties of the life. For some, this is a pause. For others, rest is found in movement. Either way, the core of rest is being in flow of self. Hearing your own voice and following that lead. Rest is intuitive. And, it lives in the same home as words like grounded, centered, aligned, and authentic. Rest is going compassionately into ourselves, even when we are in spaces with no control. We cannot stop the waves but we might ride them if we find our balance and center.
A few years ago, I stepped away from employment at a very corporate, technology and management consulting firm, having found myself giving far more than I could sustain. My stress was up, my health was down, and I felt trapped in cycle offering little benefit beyond money. My solution at that point was trying to adapt my situation toward less hours while staying in the same field. I found generous support from some very talented friends to contract through their business, working under my own LLC with part-time hours. I thought that if I could just reduce my exposure to the stress via limited hours and a shield of personal equity, then I would level out and start healing. The problem was that I had not changed any patterns or listened genuinely to my heart. The same stresses existed for me; I brought the same performance-based mindset into work; my bottomline was still defined by pay. And, I am sure it comes as no surprise to read: my health kept getting worse while my stress increasing. I watched the boundaries that I set by being part-time slip away. I felt my contentment getting less and less every day.5
All the while, I pursued other endeavors that did feel awake to me and whose benefits came in energy that was far more valuable to my spirit than money. I was leading mindfulness circles, hosting tea sessions, participating in group ceremonies, and holding space for others with facilitations. Yet, I kept each of these at arm’s length as side projects and hobbies, giving the majority of my waking life (minus those insomniac hours in bed) toward my consulting work. The times when I was within those “hobbies,” I found myself at ease, fulfilled, and energized in ways that were rarities otherwise. Even still, seeing the stark contrast of costs and benefits, I kept at it with my working life and paid an ever-increasing, daily toll.
Then, through a loving invitation provided by community abroad, my wife and I decided to take two winter months off and head back to New Zealand (where she had lived many years and I had traveled on multiple occasions). It was a rich time of community and natural beauty, filled with harrowing challenges, including a major flareup in health issues, a nasty accident requiring emergency surgery, a cyclone travel shutdown, and a minor earthquake. Amidst all the ups and downs, we managed to concretize a plan for me to break from work and focus on my healing journey. We leaned into what was possible with our budget and committed to giving me six months off to learn about and to practice rest.
Candidly, it did not go as expected. I was programmed to not rest properly. I filled up my schedule with connections and commitments. When I was not sharing time with others, I crashed hard into guilty naps or spent hours taking in podcasts. We welcomed a puppy to our family, which taxed my already limited sleep.6 And, time slipped by in a blink of an eye. For much of that open and free six months, I felt unrested. I felt exhausted in new ways. My goals to learn about rest came up with very little to show for it, beyond learning what rest was not (which I will say: most of my big life lessons seem to arrive through contrast and backwards paths; while I may not have been meeting my learning goals head on, I was certainly queuing myself up for learning to come!).
Then in a convergence of slow days, somatic therapy, loving community, puppy walks, beautiful ceremony, and profound wisdom of my loving partner, the soil that I feared I was fruitlessly tilling started to show the tiniest growth. And, I began to find ways to go into my days with a sense of self. My stated goal of “learning about rest” (that required a near constant internal evaluation and performance review) sneakily faded away. Instead, I started to focus on my curiosities and listening to my body, which for me, proved a far more effective gauge and navigation tool toward rest than a strategic mind. A third way appeared that was neither the aforementioned embattlement (trying to force myself to heal) or avoidance (turning into escapism pathways). Those “hobbies” where I felt myself most full and energized started to become my actual practices. Rest showed up in being at peace within myself; restlessness began to relinquish its ever present demands. This is a long tale full of multiple parts at play. I condense it to say: my ability to rest came from living into my days authentically, with integrity of self.
I wish I could map out the “7 Steps to Finding Deep Rest” or “12 Keys To Truly Being Yourself.” I cannot. If I knew the magic, I would share it with the world. I also wish that I could say, “And that’s the story of how I resolved my exhaustion and healed my illness. The end.” That did not happen. I am still on this journey of learning to heal and finding my own true rest. And, the quick shift that I mentioned above of “slow days, somatic therapy, loving community, puppy walks, beautiful ceremony, and profound wisdom of my loving partner” cover a large swath of time that was by no means linear and unfolded with complexity. However, I can say that I saw impactful change. I am still seeing change. And, I have learned a great deal about what rest is for me and how I can best find it. I have days where I feel depleted, sick, and my weird health issues flare up. I also have days where I get a glimpse of how I can live more honestly in what is true to me and what brings me the most alignment. In the latter, those days are when I have the most access to self-regulation of my nervous system, I drop into a restful space, and I surf those waves in life of which I have no control.
So, how does this all connect? How does letting go, knowing control, navigating paradox, and resting into rest all fit together? I am not certain that know. But I think I might know too, somewhere a little beyond my strategizing and analytical mind, somewhere a little more somatically and spiritually alive in me. That’s the curious mystery that I am living into these days. Finding healing through trusting myself. And, I wonder if by splattering these ideas all out onto the wall for you to see, maybe you might catch a vision of connection and direction too. You might see some art in this wild mess. Somewhere in it all, you too might simply rest in the question “how do I let go of control, without trying to control the situation?”
Following the breadcrumbs…
I have enjoyed each of these recently. Perhaps you will find something related, interconnected, or interwoven as you walk your path…or perhaps they will just be a little something to bite into, on a road to nowhere. See for yourself.
PODCAST: Sam Frogoso (on Longform). I love meta dialogues about dialoguing and the interviewing of interviewers. After over a decade of documentary filmmaking and sitting in the interviewer’s seat, these sort of reflections inspire me. But, the real joy of this one is the plot twist halfway in. I did not see that coming!
READING (BOOK): Circe by Madeline Miller. Myth is powerful. Bringing myth into language, which is accessible and inviting, is a gift. Madeline Miller does so in this flowing and inspiring read. I won’t provide any interpretation right now (isn’t that openness part of mythology’s invitation?); however, I will share that I see value in this story for present day and that it is a quality read.
STREAMING (TV): Northern Exposure. Listen, I can’t go to bat for this as “A+” content. And, I am not certain I know how to unpack where 90’s network television may lack necessary nuance or potentially be problematic. But, if you missed the boat in 1990 or feel inspired to revisit life in this quirky Alaskan community, I will say that there is something very inviting and pleasant in the show. Molly and I have greatly enjoyed watching the first couple seasons so far.
My friend Joy Crawford reminded me of the translated words of Rilke, following the “living in the questions” comments of my first Substack. Indeed, these feel relevant:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke, Briefe an einen jungen Dichter (Letters to a Young Poet), translated by Charlie Louth
I managed to use two dubious words in back-to-back sentences. Whether or not controllessness or easefully are proper may be open to debate. I think they are perfectly valid and clearly understood; whereas, Substack’s spellcheck insists on noting both as incorrect and unacceptable. Though, I feel inclined to note: their own spellcheck system also fails to recognize “Substack” as non-erroneous. So maybe, if we can’t see ourselves with acceptance, then let’s just hold off on your judgment of others, Substack. Okay?
Rest is not not sleep either. Sorry for all of the contradictions this round. Sleep is restful (or I hope it is, for those who can drop into proper cycles and are spared fitful dreams). Sleep is so good. I love sleep, despite my fickle relationship with it. I hold sleep as one of my most relished categories of rest. Though, it is a category and not rest itself in the context of today’s writings. The Venn diagram of REST and SLEEP overlap but not fully. And, I also know that sleep can be a very triggering and taxing topic for folks—which discussing may itself be unrestful.
I am not afraid. I will footnote a reference as a footnote here; that’s right. A reminder from prior post on integration that “we do not all have immediate capacity to access slow breathing or self-regulation of our nervous systems” given circumstances and environments. I see you in that. My hope is that you may still find avenues for internal rest.
I am explicitly stating that my repeated, unhealthy patterns and growing discontent were due to my own mindset and perspectives. I hope it is clear that I place no blame on the coworkers or clients for how I responded to the situation….well, maybe a little blame on corporate capitalism as a whole for the culture that was impacting me. I so appreciate the incredible community of loving individuals that I worked within during that time.
Zadie, our ~1 year old houndy mutt, is one of the great loves of my life. She has also been an incredible teacher and unexpected spiritual guide for me. I would give up those months of sleeplessness all over again for her! But, let me remind anyone who is reading this and currently considering adding a puppy to their lives: IT IS A LOT OF WORK. No shame in sharing your home with an adult dog in need.
The nuance between control and sovereignty...lovely and essential...
"Rest is giving calm to a nervous system running at high alert and relieving hypervigilance against the anxieties of the life. For some, this is a pause. For others, rest is found in movement. Either way, the core of rest is being in flow of self. Hearing your own voice and following that lead. Rest is intuitive. And, it lives in the same home as words like grounded, centered, aligned, and authentic. Rest is going compassionately into ourselves, even when we are in spaces with no control. We cannot stop the waves but we might ride them if we find our balance and center....Finding healing through trusting myself." ... (exhale)
I love your curiosity around rest. I've noticed that the nervous system and body, the home to our deep being, knows truth. When we feel seen and recognized in our authentic nature, by ourselves and others, we often respond with a deep exhale...the body's way of resting into its nature; it's truth. It's magnificent to consider that we have a built in intelligence always letting us know when we are landed in our unique essence...