Our hearts beat somewhere around 80 times per minute, every minute, of every day, of every year…until we die. When we are stressed, our hearts beat faster; stronger. When the heart squeezes, we call it systole. Our hearts are incredibly strong and efficient, never really resting. But the faster they beat, the less time they have to fill up between beats, the period we call diastole. When diastole is too short, our hearts remain relatively empty and don’t fill up with enough blood to pump to our lungs, our brain, our muscles. Without enough oxygen-carrying blood pumped to every corner of our bodies, we are in a state of dysfunction. We can’t live long in that condition…

2020 and early 2021 have been sustained systole. Pumping harder, faster, trying to keep up…and for a while, it worked. Adrenaline kicked in…we kept going and going. But the price we paid is very little diastole. And now our hearts are empty…and our rapid heartbeats are relatively void of rich blood…a lot of work with little return.

Normally eager to read and learn about leadership, I felt puzzled by the dread I felt when I started reading a book about being a better leader for my team. I had a leadership conference scheduled for this morning but secretly felt relieved when a meeting got scheduled at the same time so I didn’t have to attend the virtual conference. A series of sermons I have heard this month has left me feeling exhausted, not challenged, and invigorated. Why? This isn’t like me.

You know when you have been in a series of intense Zoom meetings all day, then at the end of the day, you stand up and it’s only then you realize your back and your neck hurt; that you’ve been holding tension in your shoulders; that you are so incredibly mentally and emotionally drained, you have nothing left for yourself or your family?

That’s systole. Repeated intense contraction.

I realized that I am not in the right frame of mind to be challenged right now. I’m empty. Trying to pump compassion and mentorship and knowledge and vision forward…but I’ve given what I had…and now I am empty.

There are two lessons I am learning…

1. It’s ok to be empty. It’s ok to recognize where I am, how I feel. It’s ok to know that the content of what is offered to me may be amazing, but I’m not in a place to receive it while I am in systole.
2. I need diastole. And I will have to let go, defer, or rethink some of the things that are keeping me from slowing down enough to get filled back up.

So…I didn’t go to the conference, but there will be others. I only skimmed through the book, but I can read it again later. I gave up my spot on a committee I am not fully participating on anyway; I resigned from a position that takes more mental energy than time. Yesterday, I turned off my Zoom camera and gave myself a pedicure while I listened. Today, I watched a powerful documentary that brought me to (good) tears in between meetings. And (and this is the key for me) I don’t feel guilty about any of it. Did you hear me, my Type A friends? I am creating a little diastole and I refuse to feel guilty about it.

My very dear friend, Alvaro, taught me about this emotional and mental diastole. I cannot claim credit for this concept. He leaves in his out of office reply when he is gone, “I am in Diastole”. His announcement is beautiful and affected me deeply the first time I saw it.

I don’t believe I am the only one who needs a period of diastole. I see you. I hear you. I know you. We are collectively empty. So I will give you the grace and the space to fill yourself back up…and I hope you can do the same for me.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.