My HRV Dropped, My Heart Raced
Then I Learned What the Sun Was Doing and Slowed Down to Heal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed I was yawning during the day, which is not like me. I give my body plenty of sleep and rest. But by 2 p.m., I was tired—deep in my bones, in a hard-to-describe way. I wanted to fall asleep, and by 4:30 p.m., I found myself dozing, watching TV. Something was off. I went to bed crazy early, giving my body what it was asking for.
Then my heart rate started climbing. I could feel my blood pulsing in my veins. The overnight stats on my Oura Ring told me my resting heart rate was about 10 points higher than average. My HRV (heart rate variability—see definition below) was dipping well below my baseline. One morning it even asked, “How are you feeling today?” and suggested I take it easy. I was waking up at odd times—11:30 p.m., then again at 2 a.m. When I mentioned it to my daughter, she said, “Zoe (my granddaughter) was up at 2 and 5 a.m. ready to party.” Something was clearly going on.
The Drop: May 23
These little signs are more than just inconvenience—they’re signals. When your heart rate and HRV are off, it’s not just about being tired. It’s your body saying: pay attention.
So I started looking at what I could control:
I drank coffee one day (a no-no with cacao—she doesn’t like competition).
I ate some tortilla chips from a salad topper.
I know I’m sensitive to table salt.
And my time with Zoe (my granddaughter) has increased exponentially in recent weeks.
All of these things could be contributors. So I tried adjusting.
The Worst of It: June 2–4
When my HRV hit 14, I got scared. Everyone’s numbers are different, but I’ve been tracking mine long enough to know what that means for me: my body is under extreme stress.
During my Zoom call with my life coach, she acknowledged the data but reminded me to shift from trying to fix everything to simply asking, 'How can I support myself?' It wasn’t about doing more. It was about caring for the part of me that was clearly depleted. I tried to slow down, but nothing seemed to help. I was exhausted and overwhelmed and afraid that I might need to go to the doctor. Then there was the space weather. From June 2 to June 4, a powerful G4-level solar storm and spikes in the Schumann resonance stirred up the Earth’s electromagnetic field. (That means the sun was flaring, and the Earth was buzzing.) And that just so happened to be the exact time when my HRV and energy hit rock bottom. Coincidence? Maybe. But I’ve seen this pattern before.
What Helped: Slowing Down & Checking In
Knowing this gave me some peace. The data from my Oura Ring gave me a starting point—but the real shift came when I followed through with what my coach had gently suggested: slow down and support myself. Ugh. Slowing down can make me feel weak or unproductive. But I knew I couldn’t push through this. So I wrote a sticky note for my journal:
How do I want to feel today?
What do I want to do today?
How can I support myself today?
The answers were different each day. I wanted to feel light and feminine. I wanted to be around people. I bought flowers for the house. I even took 30 minutes to enjoy tea and a cookie at the local bakery—something I rarely do for myself. I practiced grounding, even when it felt silly. Self-care is easy to recommend and harder to practice, even when we know it matters.
The Shift: Return to Balance
Finally, some relief. Around June 5 and 6, my resting heart rate dropped the 10 points it had gained. I felt more relaxed, even excited when I woke up. The heaviness had lifted. I could write again.
During meditation, I received clear insight about what to do with my book—something that had been stuck for six weeks. That morning, sitting outside in the early hours, I felt grateful for the rain and noticed a few lightning bugs dancing in the dark. A beautiful reset. And then… the tingle returned. That familiar sensation between my shoulder blades—the signal I always get when I’m making a decision in alignment with my soul. I hadn’t felt it in weeks. That morning, it came through strong. My body was saying yes.
Body as Barometer
Our bodies are barometers—if we listen. They pick up on what our minds miss. They don’t wait for clarity—they speak it. A friend once told me I’m the most ‘in-tune with my body’ person she knows. I feel it in my fingers when I eat the wrong kind of salt. I know to eat every few hours of my blood sugar drops. My hips hurt, I know I need more water. And when I’m aligned, my shoulder blades whisper keep going.
The tingle was back on June 6. I knew I was on track again, and the earth’s energy had settled down.
You Don’t Have to Track It All
Tracking is a tool. My Oura Ring lets me know when I’m veering off course—whether it’s from too much salt, a late dinner, or simply living out of rhythm with my body’s needs. I’m not obsessed, but I check it every morning. And this time, those metrics prompted me to slow down, reassess, and find my footing—not just by changing what I ate or how I moved, but by looking outside of me too. At the sun. At the Earth. At the big, quiet forces we often forget we're connected to. Knowing what was happening helped me soften. I didn’t have to fix it all. I could just rest. I could buy myself flowers. I could ride out the solar flares with a peanut butter cookie and a little grace. Because these waves? They’re not going to stop. As the Earth shifts and 2027 approaches (whether you believe in energy, astrology, Human Design, or scripture—it’s all pointing to change), we’ll keep feeling it.
So I remember:
Rest when I need it.
Spend time with people I love.
Buy the flowers that make me smile.
And trust that even when I don’t feel great, my body is doing its best to lead me home.
Quick Definitions:
HRV (Heart Rate Variability): The variation in time between heartbeats. Higher HRV typically means your body is well-rested and resilient.
Schumann Resonance: The Earth’s natural electromagnetic frequency. It can spike during solar storms or high energetic activity.
Geomagnetic Activity: Disturbances in the Earth’s magnetic field, usually triggered by solar flares or coronal mass ejections (CMEs).