How to Let Go of The Non-Stop Hustle and Find Inner Peace
Slowing down wasn’t easy, but was absolutely worth it.
Photo by Erriko Boccia on Unsplash
Three years ago, I quit my job, sold most of my stuff, and moved to Panama.
After 21 years of non-stop hustle in the corporate world, I was officially done. I craved a slower, simpler lifestyle — and adventure was calling me.
Most of all, after being buried in emails, texts, and Slack pings at all hours of the day and night, I yearned to never respond to another message for the rest of my life.
No Matter Where You Are, There You Are
My husband and I quit our jobs and moved to another country to escape the incessant rat race that was eating our souls.
And yet, here I was, sitting at my kitchen table, still making spreadsheets and lists of tasks and errands. I’d even constructed a dependency flow chart based on our questions and their potential answers. WTF!?
I had removed myself from the office, yet the office tendencies and culture were alive and well, running familiar circles in my mind. The mental pathways of being “on,” always doing, and always busy were well-worn and strong.
Busyness called to me like a stiff vodka tonic to a recovering alcoholic.
We moved 3,000 miles away, and in my mental suitcase, I dutifully packed my codependent tendencies, character defects, and all.
Complications Arise
I can’t lie. Those first six months were pretty rough. The magnitude and multitude of changes overwhelmed me on many, many days.
I felt anxious and itchy. Uncomfortable in my skin. Constantly second-guessing even the smallest decisions. Which beans to buy, canned or dry? Should I store the toilet paper under the sink where it could get wet or on the closet shelf where it’ll be dry but out of reach?
Neighbors and new friends would say, “Give it time. It takes a while to adjust.” I’d walk away unconsciously shaking my head no, thinking I’d made a terrible mistake!
In the corporate realm, I was a do-er. A sought-after fixer. The go-to gal who was reliable, confident, and great under pressure. When a big client, project, or event was in the mix, I was the one called to lead.
One of my previous bosses used to say, “Sometimes your biggest strength is your biggest weakness.” As we settled into Panamanian life, this statement was never more true.
You see, as a child, I grew up without much nurturing or support. Sure, I had a roof over my head, clothes to wear, and most times, there was some sort of food in the house. And yet, my young, single mother lacked basic relational skills and was physically and emotionally unavailable.
As all children do, I adapted to fulfill my needs of feeling safe, seen, soothed, and secure. Becoming a high-performing achiever was the natural progression in my quest to earn attention and adoration from teachers, coaches, and bosses.
The dissociative coping skills of busyness and workaholism I developed to alleviate the pain of neglect and abuse, the survival strategies that served me quite well as a child, had become unchecked liabilities as an adult and were simply no longer serving me.
The Process of Patience and Truth
Just like an addict, it took time to withdraw. It took time to turn down the volume on my constant mental chatter encouraging me to go, do, plan, organize, and elevate.
I was addicted to busyness. Being productive was my jam. My drug of choice. My element. It’s where I thrived and succeeded. It’s where I got accolades and affection that felt a lot like love.
And yet, always striving, always trying to prove myself was exhausting. My gold-star seeking impacted my physical and mental health and perpetuated stress, overwhelm, and snide discontent.
Quitting my job and moving to Panama didn’t remove my dis-ease. Still, it did take away all my lame-ass excuses for not working through the lingering trauma response of my busyness compulsion.
I wish I could tell you that I read a self-help book, went to a few weeks of therapy, or added ten extra minutes to my meditation and was magically cured. As with most remnants of childhood trauma, it took time, guidance, support, and a shit-ton of work to inch my way through release.
These are a few remedies that have made the biggest impact.
The Art of Doing Nothing
When everything in me screamed, stay busy, plan something, anything as a distraction, look for another job, or run away — I (very painfully) did the exact opposite.
I did quite literally nothing for hours of the day. I sat on the back porch and watched the clouds change form. I went for long hikes without music or company. I meditated, did Yoga Nidras, snuggled with our fur babies, and took naps.
I reconnected with my body and its sensations. I listened to my reluctant breath. I paid attention to my tears, gently asking what, precious gal, do you need?
Being constantly on the go is a fantastic way to avoid feelings and emotions. I’m busy, I’m fine. Deliberately, at times forcefully, slowing down and listening to the faint whispers of my heart continues to be a powerful piece of my healing.
Tools of Self-Regulation
When our nervous system is dysregulated, we tend to overreact or even under-react.
Our bodies pump out hormones that tell us to fight, flee, freeze, or fawn. This reactionary trigger is almost always a response to unresolved trauma.
In the 12-step community, we say, “If it’s hysterical, it’s historical.” Meaning, if I get all bent outta shape over something seemingly small and unimportant in the grand scheme of life, I’m likely correlating the present situation to a past experience where I was harmed, shamed, fearful, or embarrassed.
I had to learn that when my nervous system is spracked, and I’m snippy with my communication, defensive, frustrated, down on myself, or just in a pissy mood, the only person who can help me — is me.
It’s my job to first recognize my behavior or negative self-talk and then politely excuse myself from the situation to go sit with my feelings.
My therapist calls this “removing the charge.” Her counsel is to find a quiet place where I can sit, breathe, and name the feelings. For example, maybe I’m feeling anxious, frustrated, tired, judgmental, or insignificant.
Then the goal is to identify the location in my body where the tension resides, typically in my throat, chest, or upper abdomen, and compassionately sit with it until the feelings subside.
I remember thinking, OK, lady. I might need to sit in meditation 24/7 until our next session. Sure enough, that evening, I was triggered by something nonchalant my husband said. I excused myself to another room and sat quietly with my feelings.
When the pressure of my emotional flooding had subsided, and I could release the story in my head and come back into the present calmly, I knew the episode had passed. With practice, the frequency and duration of my dysregulation escapades have decreased.
I’ve also added alternate nostril breathing, making the sound of VOO, and deep belly breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth to my self-regulation toolbox.
It’s remarkable how just ten deep, slow belly breaths (in through the nose, out through the mouth) change my state. My shoulders relax and fall, and my jaw loosens. Within seconds my whole body releases.
When I’m sideways, this is my go-to technique.
Self-Care Through The Lens of Our Universal Cravings
I began codependency 12-step recovery seven years ago. My healing process has also included a handful of therapy modalities including talk, somatic experience, EMDR, and group sessions.
My self-care routines have steadily increased in variety, volume, and consistency. But it wasn’t until the past few years that I made myself and my self-care the #1 priority of each day.
Unfortunately, I see people get caught up in the notion that self-care is “a nice to have.” That it’s something they “should do” or will do “one day in the future” but can’t right now for a variety of reasons.
Each of us is unique and what you need is likely different than what I need. However, we all carry four basic wants and desires regardless of race, age, gender, or nationality. All humans crave the same four things,
A sense of aliveness
Connection
Meaning, and
Growth opportunities
When I think about self-care, it’s helpful for me to organize my activities into these four areas.
If it would mean more vitality, motivation, and mental presence to offset the pressures of the daily grind, would you invest 10% more in your self-care?
What if you went to bed an hour earlier? Drank an extra glass or two of water? Went for a 20-minute walk after lunch every day? Read one page a day of an inspiring book?
Compounded over time, tiny self-care habits add up to make a tremendous, life-altering impact that is oftentimes deeply undervalued.
A Whole New World
The third anniversary of my husband and I moving to Panama is this week.
As we exited the airport after a long, hectic travel day, the fella we’d hired to help us with the immigration details said something I’ll never forget.
We’d willfully stepped out of the consumeristic climb of corporate America and into the slow, simple pace of a tropical paradise. As the last suitcase was tossed into the van, Jose looked at me and said:
We have your family, pets, and all your bags safely here in Panama. Now is the hard part. You must bring your mind to Panama to find what you are seeking.
My eyes instantly swelled with tears. I knew exactly what he meant.
I’d spent my entire life caught up in the hustle. Feeling compelled to prove my worth, to earn respect, to earn love. Always busy. Always doing.
I’d made a great deal of progress in therapy and recovery rooms. I’d worked my steps and grew self-awareness, self-compassion, and acceptance. In many aspects of my life, I was “better.” I’d learned to surrender.
And yet, the busyness compulsion still tugged at me. My inability to sit down, be still, and quiet my mind for more than ten minutes continued to be a festering wound. Until one day, I’d had enough and decided to get help, change my environment, and invest in my #1 currency — my time.
The healing journey is never-ending. And while that may seem daunting, I’ve learned to let go of the destination and enjoy the process.
I still keep a to-do list and plan out the tasks of my day. I still have hours when productivity is essential and required. I also maintain a handful of quirks, emptying the bathroom trash each morning and keeping a spreadsheet of my supplements supply, to name a few.
The difference is I’m conscious and aware. I’m present in my body, not dissociatively, compulsively filling time with allegedly important tasks.
It takes time. It takes hour after hour of being still and quiet, of doing the exact opposite of my patterns. I’m by no means entirely comfortable or pitch-perfect in this new lifestyle yet.
But what I know for sure is that I’m happier, healthier, more present, calm, and grateful than I’ve ever been.
I think it’s worth the ride.
. . .
Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.