A invitation to unsubscribe
You have limited energy
Assuming you’ve had a restful night’s sleep, you wake up in the morning with a reserve of energy. Not like electricity, but like a battery. A rechargeable one.
You probably do some things that joyfully drain your battery — doing your creative work, for example. It takes energy, but it also gives you some too. Life is also full of things that drain the spirit’s battery, emptying us slowly throughout the day. There’s traffic, noise, stressful circumstances and depleting people, too. We lose this vitality without filling back up.
Perhaps you’d prefer to spend your finite energy on your work, creating revenue, using your gifts, sharing them. You can turn this desire into a sacred practice.
You deserve a sacred space
Because we live in a “more is more” culture, so many things compete for our time and energy that it becomes difficult to sense where appropriate boundaries are. What is enough? What is too much?
Boundaries? It’s a free for all. We throw up our hands in overwhelmed resignation. From this place, it’s too much effort to discern where to begin.
You can create a sacred boundary around you
It is possible to preserve and cultivate this precious energy. Even though it seems impossible with all the act-now offers and text messages and appointments and calls to return and errands to run (and even my phone rings as I type this). It is possible. You may just need to start small. Smaller than you’re accustomed to.
Unsubscribe
Unsubscribing is a perfect place to begin to reclaim your vitality and spirit. Even as you do these actions, you may incidentally improve others’ lives too. Consider these suggestions:
Unsubscribe from emails: As you look through your inbox, notice what depletes you. Notice if there are certain emails you never read. Start unsubscribing — including to this newsletter. If you don’t have the heart to offend the sender, many email programs allow you to set up a “rule” so that certain messages get automatically trashed bypassing your inbox. Same outcome: less email, more peace.
Unsubscribe from phone calls: When you get a solicitation — even at an odd hour — pick up the phone and ask to removed from the list belonging to the company calling you. Be kind to the solicitor and remember they’re working to pay the bills too. I like to say thank you at the end and wish them a good evening with a smile. It may be the only kindness they receive today.
Unsubscribe from mail: In the US, you can write “RTS” (return to sender) if a letter was mistakenly sent to you and it will be returned. If it was intended for you, call the company that sent it and ask to be removed from their mailing list. It’s worth the time. My insurance agent sends me letters occasionally asking if I’d like additional insurance products. When I emailed him today, I learned that I can unsubscribe from all their mailings at once — so I did. No hard feelings. No more junk.
Unsubscribe from advertisements: I’ve debated canceling the Sunday paper for this reason: I look through all those ads and feel all angsty and full of want for things I don’t really need. Another kind of advertisement (and feeling) comes from catalogs. If you receive them and don’t like how you feel when you look at them, pick up the phone. You’d be surprised how helpful the sales agents are — and how accustomed they are to this request. Not only will you save the company the expense of sending future mailings, you’ll save yourself the time of processing them and leaky energy that could be put to better use.
As you can see, this process is more than just organizing time or paper. I invite you to create just enough structure — to cultivate an environment that replenishes your precious energy.
Starting with these steps will enliven you and give the gift of peace to your future self. When excess email, calls, and paper decrease, what could have room to grow?
In its place, invite in more of what you want
To deepen your sense of sacred boundaries, imagine drawing around you a circle of light or flowers or love or ocean sounds (or whatever touchstones nourish you) that provide a healing, expansive buffer for your spirit. Your creative space can be like this. In the place of distraction, you can invite focus. In place of overwhelm you can invite clarity. In place of depletion, you can experience a full heart.
Start small. Nurture your spirit. See what unfolds.




