Late August… this is the part of summer when, well, as far as I’m concerned, it could be autumn. It’s HOT…still. MUGGY…still. The weather makes me lethargic and puts me on edge - not my favorite ways to feel. These are my Dog Days; I just want to lie somewhere cool and zone out - rest my summer-weary body and soul. And that feeling has brought some memories to mind - and, of course, an associated story/life lesson…
After her husband, my Grandpa Fred, died, Grandma Bessie came to live with our family. Grandma and I were roommates from the time when (at the age of two, the story goes), I climbed out of my crib and into her bed. Clearly, we were very close from early on. We remained close as I navigated - somewhat shakily - my early school years. Grandma was my solace from the cruel outside world. She never failed to have cookies and milk waiting for me after a grueling day hitting the books. She was the one who invited me - once her TV Westerns were over - to accompany her each night to “Nelly White’s Party” - which was her allegory for bedtime. Once we’d said our prayers, I’d drift off to that party, safe, secure and content.
On the wall in our room where I was so nurtured hung a small plaque with a poem:
I wish I was a little rock
A-sittin on a hill
Doin’ nothin’ all the day
But just a-sittin’ still.
I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t sleep
I wouldn’t even wash.
I’d just sit still a thousand years
And rest myself, b’gosh!
We lost Grandma Bessie when I was ten years old; gone to her eternal rest. The last place I saw the plaque was on the wall at my sister Peggy’s house. I’m happy it’s still in the family.
I’d had that poem memorized since I’d learned to read; etched in my heart as well as my mind. As years passed and I grew into a young woman navigating twentieth century life, the poem’s message became foreign to me. It seemed trite; irrelevant even. Too old fashioned and quaint for the modern world. That world, my world, was all about will; the drive to achieve. There was no time for resting; resting was for the lazy - the unmotivated. I had places to go and oh, so many things to do! I was a perpetual motion machine. If it wasn’t in the service of making money, it was in the service of others or of simply doing something - anything. It’s amazing how doing becomes more than productivity. It becomes an addiction to action; an escape from the nothing we think is the opposite of action.
Yep, I’d consumed society’s Kool-Aid: A busy person = a good person. That in order to matter - to be worthy of anything at all - one had to earn one’s keep by always keeping busy. I’d take the lesson so far as to say I believed that unless I had my nose consistently to the grindstone, denying that there was more to me than that which did things and produced stuff, I was a failure. To take care of my soul, my entire being, was thought to be inexcusably selfish.
The concept of rest for rest’s sake - as a critical part of the cycle of a healthy life - was inconceivable. But in turning my back on the desirability of rest, I’d shunned a bigger, wiser part of myself: The part that connects to my inner life. Not just the physical world around me - but the part that nourished my spirit - my will to live my life as the precious thing it is.
I’m glad I came across the following reflection on how resting IS doing - part of it anyway. It is giving ourselves the chance to digest what we consume; process the air we breathe to nourish our cells. It certainly rings true.
Once I adopted the “luxury” of allowing myself to rest, I noticed how tired I was. Not sleepy so much as overwhelmed and in a state of constant alertness for outside stimulus. I was soul-exhausted! The meditation practice I’m learning to follow affords me the opportunity to find calm and quiet so that I do rest. From a rested headspace, I see things with greater clarity and a broader understanding of my life and its potential.
Grandma’s “trite” poem held powerful wisdom. Too bad I’d set it aside for so long! I’m so grateful to be back in relationship with the power of these simple words:
“Doin’ nothin’ all the day
But just a-sittin’ still.”
Embracing the pauses of life is the key to living it fully.
Amen.
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Another beautiful story read with a smile on my face. Many thanks for giving me permission to rest without feeling guilty.