Loosening My Grip, Finding My Joy
“I spent five days detoxing from my “busy” identity, and I felt something seemingly radical: peace.”
I just experienced one of the best weeks of my life.
I LOVED every single day. Of course, I had my moments - frustration or the nugget of nagging anxiety would creep in. But, in general, I slept well, had good energy levels, felt accomplished and fulfilled, initiated more than a couple solo dance parties in the kitchen, participated in happy hour a few times, and my voice even started to come back after 11 weeks of unexplained, otherwise harmless laryngitis (more on this another time).
The thing is, this wasn't supposed to be a necessarily chill, enjoyable week. I was on call for jury duty. In San Francisco, as I imagine in many other jurisdictions, those summoned call or check a website after 4:30 PM on a given day to see if we have to report the next day. I had originally delayed my summons due to a scheduling conflict. This otherwise unclaimed March week was a solid sacrifice for my civic duty.
I ended up not having to report to the courthouse at all, and on Thursday, my last day to “call in”, I learned my duty had been completed for the next calendar year. This was a major score.
So why was this week that had a potential dark cloud looming above so damn good?
For the first time in a long time, my time was almost entirely unscripted.
When you don’t know your bandwidth until later in the day, booking yourself busy the next day is a little challenging. Throw in late-afternoon inertia and the glorious “fuck it” vibe that kicks in with a glass of champagne, and that calendar is looking nice and light.
I feel so damn good right now because I was forced to live in the moment for five consecutive days last week.
(As I told my husband today, “I have felt more carefree, lighter, and happier than I have in a long time, and I’ve been off Lexapro for months! All because of jury duty.”)
My entire life has been a meticulously architected plan. (I am extremely goal-oriented and also very good at planning, so this works out quite well.) I learned the hard lesson about life plans when in 2017 I quickly got engaged and even more quickly pregnant just months after completing grad school. It wasn’t long before I was only one of these things. I was supposed to finish my fancy degree and get an even fancier job to make it all worth it and to help pay that bill. But a couple of years later, I had tied the knot with a different fiancé and squeezed out my second kid.
The culmination of my family only took place because I let go of my relentless need to control. I just stopped. Early in my first pregnancy, there was no question about that child being in my life, even after my relationship fell apart. How was I going to make things work as a single mom in one of the most expensive cities on the planet? I had no clue or plan, but it turned out I had a whole lot of faith. Once I got over the initial paralyzing fear, I moved into what I can only explain as a flow state supported by the overwhelming sovereignty and power a pregnant woman can experience. I distinctly remember a moment in April 2018 when I thought to myself, “Wow, after all that - I AM going to be OK.”
6 weeks later I met my husband.
So, what does this have to do with jury duty? Magic happens when we let go. When I didn’t plan my days until the night before or the morning of, if at all, I was forced to live in the moment. For a planner, this can be very scary.
Will there be a Double Floor spot in the 9:45 AM Barry’s? (Who knows? Who cares?)
Will I promptly wake up so I can shower and dress before taking the kids to school so I can do XYZ-whatever right after school drop-off? (Don’t need to, because I don’t need to be anywhere!)
I never really stopped to reflect on how I treat my time until my experience last week. And I mean REALLY TREAT it - well. Not just allocate it, but cherish, value, LOVE. I blame this on years of nerd school and almost two decades in corporate roles. Busy was my brand. Since starting my family, I have not had a traditional full-time job. But, BOY, have I remained excellent at being busy! I am very good at finding tasks and filling time. I am even better at self-inflicted guilt in the face of inertia.
Something quite literally energetic shifted in me last week. I know because this is how I feel when my serotonin is balanced and optimized. I don’t catch myself holding my breath or the gap between my shoulders and earlobes a bit too narrow. My reactive behavior has been at bay. Well, it turns out I’m not entirely nuts. When we let go of rigid planning and control, our brains shift out of the usual anticipatory stress mode (which activates the amygdala, the brain’s fear center) and into a more present-focused, parasympathetic state.
Here’s what may have happened in my brain:
Less cortisol, more serotonin & dopamine. Chronic planning and scheduling keep us in a mild state of fight-or-flight (which can mean high cortisol). By releasing control, we reduce stress and allow feel-good neurotransmitters like serotonin and dopamine to flow more freely.
More prefrontal cortex, less limbic system. The prefrontal cortex is responsible for logic and planning, and last week mine was forced to relax, letting other brain regions associated with creativity, pleasure, and spontaneity take the wheel.
Neuroplasticity & flow state. When we engage in unscripted time, we open pathways for creativity and adaptability, which may be why I felt more carefree, spontaneous, and happy.
For five days, my brain did something wild: it got out of its own way. Instead of constantly running ahead, anticipating, and over-optimizing, it simply let me be.
As someone who’s manipulated my neurotransmitters for most of my adult life, I like to understand what is happening in my brain, but I also know stuff was happening on a more woo level. I have historical data points that show me that being able to let go is critical to leaving the door for miracles open. Things always got good when I stopped pressing. I experienced this shift when my first pregnancy forced me to surrender control. The jury duty week was a smaller, low-stakes version of the same lesson: magic happens when we release. That deep peace from April 2018? It got reactivated.
I spent five days detoxing from my “busy” identity, and I felt something seemingly radical: peace. Turns out, I don’t need to constantly be doing to feel whole. (Will I remember this next week? TBD.)
Finally, my voice. After my son was hospitalized for 2 weeks over the holidays for a rare condition, I broke. My healing process was longer than his, and I was clinically fine (if not just absolutely exhausted). My voice changed - it was still there, but it was raspy, and speaking became a labored event. By the end of each day, I was exhausted - my respiratory system so strained. My primary care physician suspected allergies were the culprit, and my ENT cleared me of any grave condition. (It was actually when I realized I was down to a blocked chakra as a viable explanation when I decided it was time to start writing again. If it’s not something I say, perhaps it can be something I type.)
Last week, my voice started to heal. This was a legit surprise. I figured I had to do some throat chakra work, but it’s a bit wild to think that perhaps after letting go for a few days, my body started to feel more at peace. And then I realized - the body knows when we are safe. When we stop bracing for impact, the healing begins. When we stop scripting, the magic unfolds.
Maybe my voice wasn’t just strained - it was stuck. Stuck in the rigidity of over-planning, in the weight of responsibility, in the constant need to do. And when I finally permitted myself to loosen my grip, something shifted.
Last week, I let go of control, and my body responded. My mind exhaled. My voice returned. And I can’t help but wonder - how much of our happiness is waiting for us in the space we refuse to give ourselves?
It turns out, peace doesn’t come from perfect plans. It comes from the gaps between them.
This past week reminded me that control is often an illusion—and that the real magic happens when we let go. If you’re craving more of this mindset shift, these books dive deep into surrendering to life as it is, embracing acceptance, and understanding the connection between our emotions and our bodies:
Surrendering to Motherhood: Losing Your Mind, Finding Your Soul by Iris Krasnow
A raw and honest reflection on how motherhood strips away illusions of control, forcing a deep surrender that ultimately leads to greater joy, fulfillment, and a rediscovery of the self.
Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach
Explores how our constant striving keeps us trapped and how accepting what is can bring freedom and healing.
The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk
Explores how stress, trauma, and emotions manifest physically—and how healing requires listening to the body.
