This is what I would have told myself in my 20’s and 30’s before my second and third burn out changed the course of my romantic and professional life. I pivoted, I thrived, nevertheless – understanding my brain is not a battery but a garden would have saved me so much anguish.
A battery empties, plugs in, maybe needs a reboot, and voila you’re good to go. I have trained my brain in the same way as a refugee of war and an introvert. I had to understand what a blend of PTSD and being easily drained of your energy meant on a day-to-day basis, and how it reflected in my decision making.
It was in my early 20’s when I woke up to these things about myself. I was acutely aware of how I held myself back from my own potential. I lit a fire deep within that shone a light on the hurting little girl inside of me. This fire turned out to be one of the few moments I led from my feminine energy to thrive in life. I attuned to my body and made space to feel if this is right for me at this time instead of only thinking with my head and quickly responding with my automatic reaction – my programmed voice. I made room for possibilities of change in plans to go with the flow as life will throw you curveballs – I admired how I moved forward despite how risky it felt, and ultimately it showed me how adaptable I can be – it’s ultimately up to me in how I respond. I made time for rest, play, and cocoon. From there I tapped into my masculine energy and began to get very logical about my healing and internal revolution. Like a battery, I would fill up, empty, fill up, empty, and once in a while unplug and reboot. I became methodical when I could have been magical.
Understanding my brain as a garden would have changed my perspective in my 20’s and 30’s.
I would have had a better understanding of the seasons for my fruit. I would understand the patience it takes to harvest the crop you’re longing for. I would have known that shade is just as necessary as sun and water. Most of all, I would tell myself that the same soul (soil) does not harvest best when you plant the same seed. Unearth your roots. Replant them stronger and of a different strain. What was a plump strawberry may be a mighty celery now.
Your brain is a garden young Sahar, not a battery. Unplugging isn’t enough; it’s unearthing that helps you reignite, reconnect, reimagine, reclaim, and find your way to your own revolution.
