Out of My Comfort Zone: Answering the Call to Rest

By Mara Evenstar • Photos by Edda Pacifico

Ordained Priestess, Educator, Consultant and Social Impact Entrepreneur, Mara Evenstar, MTP, M.Ed., holds a Master in Transpersonal Psychology with specialization in spiritual psychology as well as organizational development. Her master’s degree in education focuses on leadership and social transformation. A certified teacher of Realization Process and a Reiki Master Teacher, Mara has been teaching transformational classes and workshops for over twenty years. She is co-owner of Evenstar’s Chalice, Director of Evenstar Institute, Board Member of The Intentional Living Collective and co-founder of Sophia Unfolds—all organizations created to support our conscious evolution individually and collectively. You can write to Mara at Mara@EvenstarsChalice.com.

At the beginning of this year, I did what many of us do when preparing for another trip around the sun. I set about visioning, but also taking real stock and looking at the reality of the health of my enterprises, my finances, and my body. My approach to the known challenges, I decided, was to bring in freshness of perspective, make some pivots, and then put my head down and work it. My retail business and its educational programming are currently at a critical juncture, and they really needed my undivided attention and energy. Therefore, plans for personal development (i.e, retreats, trainings, coaching), travel, or casual socializing were put on hold. I felt good about this plan. I love my work. I want my business to thrive, and I needed a big turnaround in terms of finances. So, I grabbed my oar. However, a naughty word kept creeping into my thoughts…Sabbatical.*

In early February, an email invitation hit my inbox from an organization that teaches and practices sacred temple arts. It is a home for modern Priestesses like me, that provides sisterhood and support. (Claiming for myself the title of “Priestess” would be a whole other article about living outside of my comfort zone!) For several years now, with the exception of the Covid years, one of the programs of this group has been an annual retreat called “Avalon Remembered,” which takes place in Glastonbury, UK. Each year this invitation comes, I think it sounds like a lovely, enriching experience for those going. I didn’t hold any serious thoughts about doing it myself. However, this year when the email arrived, I opened it and found myself crying. “Uh oh,” I thought to myself, this feels a little bit dangerous, like I might want to do this. I thought, perhaps I’m just a little emotional today and was easily moved. There was a Q&A call later that week, so I decided to attend if I could and see if I still felt strongly about it. Five minutes into the call, I was pushing the application button. The strength of my somatic response surprised me. My tears were flowing, I had full body chills, and I knew that I was being called. I had to trust in a big way. Apparently, what I think tending to my business looks like, and what the Universe thinks tending to my business looks like, are very different things.

Other unexpected invitations began coming my way. Would you like to co-present at a conference? Yes. Would you like to attend the Parliament of World Religions? Yes. Would you like to submit a proposal for an international Transformative Learning conference—you know, like, go to Italy? Maybe. But what happens to my own garden as I go bouncing around visiting the gardens of others? Can I really trust that not working in my business, and tending to my own needs and wants, is actually working on my business? Rationally, I know that in order to do these new things and build in rest—I have to hand off or put parts of my business to rest—knowing that doing so may mean loss of traction and potentially sunsetting.

Earlier this spring, I facilitated an online class called “Intuitive Improv & Collective Wisdom.” Each week we used a random process for uncovering the topic for the evening. We then deepened into the topic with activities meant to create space for wisdom to come through. On the first evening, our topic became “Answering the Call.” From a depth psychology perspective, answering the call is often a call to action, a call to heroism, a call into High Service. It calls for us to leave our comfort zone, to leave our home, and courageously (or fearfully) step into the unknown. Some of the wisdom that emerged that evening was in the form of this question: What if “the call” is to be still, to be quiet, to listen? This shouldn’t be a radical question…but in our culture which values productivity, which values having all the answers, which values heroic independence—well, it is radical.

Ambitious, Independent, go-getter: These are prized qualities in mainstream American culture. And although the vocabulary is different, I feel the same underlying sentiment in the more altruistic narratives of the body/mind/spirit industry. Conventional wisdom tells us that discomfort is where the growth happens. For those of us whose “business” it is to support growth, development, and transformation—we also know that this can become a perpetual self-induced discomfort that doesn’t necessarily serve growth. It can, however, feed our shadows of perfectionism. It feeds our demons of “not enough-ness.” And then self-development becomes the next hustle. What if the comfort, and the quiet, are what’s truly needed for my growth? What if the growth is sometimes not in the stretch, but in the surrender?

I know that this is a cultural battle, a paradigm battle. I also know that de-programming my own mind and behavior is a critical component of transforming this for myself. It is difficult to break the spell of a paradigm while existing within it. Here in this paradigm, where action, production, acquiring, and dominion are God, it can be a radical act of love to value stopping, resting, and reciprocating the love and care we are all craving. Certainly, the pandemic made our interconnectedness more apparent. It also made it more apparent how out of balance our daily lives had become.

As I amble through the writing of this piece, I begin to hone-in to the heart of the matter. Regardless of the circumstances–whether they be self-created and personal, or part of a larger collective situation, I personally struggle with creating space and time for deep rest or an extended break. Over the years, and especially since empty-nesting and leaving corporate work, I have been able to create more of a balance in my day-to-day life. I feel way less guilty about naps. I leave a little space in my weekly schedule for doing nothing. And this last year, I’ve started setting aside one day of month as my “sabbath.” But what feels really hard, and sometimes downright impossible, is letting go and taking deep rest, a real time-out. I think my fear of potential negative consequences tends to override my need and desire for such space. Rest is not rest if I am internally conflicted about whether my rest is appropriate. Prioritizing deep rest or even a “working” sabbatical is definitely out of my comfort zone.

Local healer and colleague, Jess Kilbourn, relayed to me recently that she is becoming a “student of rest.” I loved how softly that landed on my body. And I loved how that concept played in my mind. Ah yes, rest needs to be learned not earned. Now learning, that’s in my comfort zone.

*p.s. I look forward to colleague Colleen Newvine’s upcoming book on sabbaticals. I think her exploration of this topic is what encouraged some of my naughty thoughts.

Related Content: