Finding Joy in the Stopping: A Joy Unplugged Graduate's Story

Introducing: Bonnie Radcliffe.

Bonnie works in film & TV, and she came to me rating her joy at 5/10. She described herself as 'slightly addicted to doing and productivity.' Never took a lunch break. She just wanted to feel settled.

She joined me inside Joy Unplugged, and graduated rating her joy at 8/10.

I asked her to write about what changed. Here's what she said (I didn’t edit a word).

I stand in a field, looking out over the Sound of Jura, doing calf raises and staring at the stretch of land around me. In the distance, the mountains of Isla and Jura are painted with the blue of distance. The water is rippling, but from here I can only tell that by the darkness of it, the many lines that mark the progress of the wind. The headland around me is knee high grass, and I am ‘supposed’ to be working, but I am taking a lunch break.

I’m going to repeat that – taking a lunch break.

This, for me, is revolutionary. I work in film and TV and lunch breaks are not really a thing. But I started Joy Unplugged, and now I have a folding plastic chair secreted away. I pull it out, just for ten minutes every day, and I set it up behind the big white marquee where the extras change, and I sit and eat with the water and the mountains and the fields spread in front of me. And then I stand, and I stretch, and in just ten minutes, I am restored.

I have always powered on, pushed through.

It is part of what makes my job possible. It is part of what stops me from noticing the exhaustion, the sometimes frustration, the need for rest – because we have to keep going, right? We have to keep going and THAT is when we can stop and rest. Once it’s all done, once we’ve finished.

Before Joy Unplugged, I was used to waiting to eat until I’d completed every task.

Waiting to drink. Waiting to make tea, to drink the tea, to go to the toilet. Used to pushing my need for rest until the end of the day, when I would collapse in a heap, staring numbly into space, with no capacity left for any kind of respite.

When I started Joy Unplugged, I started noticing the very small ways that I could take the pressure off. So much of that is simply in the noticing.

Having a drink of water when I need it.

Doing a forward fold in the lift and hanging out upside down until the doors open, because I have noticed my tiredness.

Splashing cold water on my face and resetting.

Taking my short lunch break outside.

Drinking in everything around me.

Noticing the sky.

And I found that by the end of the day I was tired, still, of course I was. But I wasn’t mentally strung out in the way I used to be. I was letting myself step away. I was letting the tight grip of control, of responsibility, slip a little.

And you know what? It wasn’t chaos! And when it was, I was able to ride the wave of it without getting sucked into the downward spiral of controlling every impossible thing.

Of course, this kind of work is a spectrum. It is not a one-off fix, ‘ta-da’ and you never again prioritise work over rest. It is an ongoing adjustment, an attention to what you need, backed up by tools to know how to deal with those needs. It is ongoing and imperfect and necessary. It is small and manageable and yet oh so ground-breaking at the same time.

I was worried, before I began, that I would struggle to ‘fit it in.’ That it would be one more thing on an endless to do list. But what it actually gave me was breathing room within that list of things to do. An ability to step back and breathe, to focus on the cold water on my skin, the smell of my hand cream, the colour of the sky, the wildness of the wind, the rush of blood in a forward fold, the tension easing from my body in a late-night stretch session.

There are still so many ways I want to ease up on myself. Like I say, it is gradual and it is revolutionary, all in one. This year, I decided I no longer want to hold back, and this is, in no small way, thanks to Chloe and the work I did with her – and continue to do, through the lifelong access to Joy Unplugged and her ongoing support.

I am letting myself do things without the control of perfection.

I am enjoying, even more, the small moments.

I am walking, even slow, even close to home.

I am splashing cold water on my face and listening to music in the shower and losing track of my lengths to dive down and touch the bottom of the swimming pool.

I am writing regularly and am about to submit a new novel to agents.

I am sharing – and soon selling! – my own artwork for the first time, I am taking a pottery class and volunteering with Smart Works and trying to see friends more – and knowing none of this has to be perfect.

I am taking a moment to marvel at the sky when I take the bins out.

I am trying to stop pushing through.

I am letting myself learn, slowly, continually, that the space to breathe is what makes it all worth it.

That I do not, can not, wait for rest until everything is done, because everything will never be done and I will never stop.

And there is so much joy to be found in the stopping.

Enormous love to Bonnie for your words. Thank you for being a part of this with me!

The next cohort of Joy Unplugged starts soon. If you read Bonnie's words and thought "that's me", it's been made for you.

The programme runs for 8 weeks. It’s manageable, and it goes deep. If you’re ready to stop waiting until everything is done to find more peace and ease, you can find out more and join us here.

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