I have, for a number of years, had a piece of art that I made displayed on my bedroom wall. It’s a simple watercolor of pale red tulips on a cyan blue background with the words, ‘Return to the center. You are already whole.’ I wrote it as a gentle reminder to myself for those times when I get too caught up in my own head. But this week I happened to mention it to my therapist, and through our conversation I came to an important realization.

Much like the way, for some people, the journey to bodily self-love has to come slowly, and by starting with being neutral about one’s form or appearance first, before jumping into love and acceptance, my journey back from the depths of burnout and depression has to start with a quest to be centered, rather than happy.

Happiness, for me, is associated with states like: cheerful, positive, enthusiastic, helpful, flirty, playful, engaged, passionate, and energetic. Things that I do that both express these states and promote them include: having friends and partners around; dressing up and looking/feeling fabulous (and taking selfies and posting them on social media); working on projects; accomplishing things; seeking out novelty; having sex; singing; going on road trips with great music; playing board games; pursuing flirtationships and love affairs (including with my current partners!); reading and writing poetry; cooking; baking; gardening; caring thoughtfully for people, pets, possessions, and plants; relating to others; and participating in communities.

The thing is, all of that takes energy. Energy I don’t have right now. It feels daunting and difficult, huge and hopeless, if the only way back to doing (and enjoying) those things is to somehow… just start doing them again. I can’t do the things that I do when I feel happy to become happy again. I am too deeply and thoroughly drained.

So I guess I should rest. Resting is confusing. What is resting?* Is it just… sitting around, waiting to be less tired? Is there some active component of leisure activity that I need, like binge-watching Netflix or reading books? Should I be sleeping more, or making opportunities to get out of the house and socialize? How do those things contribute to recovering my resilience? Honestly, it’s a struggle right now to do even the more complex or intensive parts of physical self-care, like sticking to my workout routine or eating more vegetables and less simple carbs.

I begin to think, though, that if I do the things that help me feel centered, I may build back my energy and resilience until the happy stuff is accessible again.

Centeredness, for me, is associated with feeling: calm, peaceful, attentive, relaxed, content, curious, and satisfied. I promote these feelings and express them in: listening and thinking; dreaming and daydreaming; observing nature (especially the birds and insects in my garden); learning about plants and animals and my local ecosystem; sharing snuggles and positive platonic touch; having no time pressure or interruptions; enjoying silence; being in a tidy environment; wearing comfortable clothes; being alone; meditating; making and drinking tea; arranging altars, flowers, or rocks in the garden; savoring pleasant fragrances or delicious flavors; sticking to routine; and making art.

Some of these things are easier to come by than others. But there are small first steps that I can take for myself. I can prioritize more alone time. I can make some small areas tidy. When it’s not pouring rain, I can spend time in the garden every day, not to work, but just to observe and think and be. I can hold myself strictly to a 20 minute daily meditation in a room alone, instead of my recent trend of squeezing in 5 or 10 minutes at the end of the day with the background soundtrack of one of my partners brushing his teeth. Basically, I can focus on finding my center. I can strive to be peaceful and neutral and calm, instead of feeling like I have to somehow summon the will to be happy and the energy to do hobbies in order to drag myself up from the depths.

This feels like a way forward. And with that, I am content.

*(I am pursuing more understanding of types of rest and how to fold them into my routine by reading Sacred Rest by Sandra Dalton-Smith, MD. The book has a strong Christian focus and seems tailored towards working professionals, neither of which describes me, but I feel hopeful that I can cherry-pick some insights from this smart doctor nonetheless.)