This is what I did late this morning when life stared to get a little too full of that pre-Thanksgiving, computer-breaking, turn-on-the-news-and-it-sure-looks-bad, project-failing, house-needs-cleaning, must-cook-those-leeks-before-they-turn-to-mush kind of crazy around here: I made a cup of tea and I went back to bed.
I went back to bed and I stared at the wall opposite and every time my mind went to how I really should hang the shelves I bought two months ago, I (gently) said to myself 'not now.' And I listened to the rain, took a sip of tea, and watched the rainy day play off light and shadows.
This would work for a while and then I would find myself thinking about how I should get to the farmers' market and how it would be a great day to go because the rain will keep the crowds away and the farmers will need the business. (Poor farmers, probably stocked up big for the weekend before Thanksgiving.) This thought drove a spike of energy though my body and I almost got up but then I remembered and I said again 'not now.' Bombs in the Middle East. Not now. Pie crust prep. Not now. Calls to make. Not now.
More sips of tea, more listening to the rain and eventually I settled down some. Every time I tried to dream up a reason to get moving, get anxious, get distracted, I'd reel in my thoughts and just rest, as best I could, in the rainy light and the rainy sounds and the rainy smell of my morning. After a while it wasn't quite as hard to stay focused and relaxed.
What visited me then was a sweet yet pointed sense of gratitude. The miracle of being sheltered and dry, the miracle of a hot cup of tea, the miracle of the soft cotton-and-down of my bed. This sense of gratitude was quite calming and with it came a reminder that even though there is much to do and see and accomplish, even though there are stacks and lists and deadlines, there is still has to be this time of silence and stillness. This time of not-doing.
Eventually the tea cup was empty and I got out of bed and into the shower and into my clothes. I cleaned a little and organized a little and started a pot of soup from leftover mashed potatoes and the almost mushy leeks. My ordinary life had resumed with all its activity and concerns but now there was a little more spaciousness and a little less stress. I spent maybe 15 or 20 minutes with my tea flavored almost-meditation but I felt its effects all day long, like a pool of cool water that I could visit whenever I got thirsty.
This kind of rest is not about being lazy or avoiding what needs to happen. It is, to me, the natural order of things, a necessary and sane way to find the energy and motivation to carry on with the sometimes chaotic and unfocused business of running a human life. It's a little crazy out there in the wide world these days, more than a little heartbreaking, so please, find the place that fills you with whatever it is that allows you to turn and face it with a steady heart and gift-bestowing hands.
Related: Weekend Meditation: A Pear and a Poem
(Image: Dana Velden)
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Lovely.
Thanks for the reminder. Sometimes we just need to sit and stare out the window.
Early the other night I fell asleep in the recliner. I woke up early the next morning still in my clothes and with the lights all on. Best night sleep I had in ages.
Dana, what are those little green fruit?
My anxiety levels seem to be directly connected to my to-do list ... or rather, connected to how much I think about what's on my to-do list. I've been trying to do more of what you're doing, Dana -- acknowledging that there's time to take a break and breathe and have a cup of coffee, and all that stuff will get done when it gets done.
Thanks, Dana. Wonderful reminder!
Thank you for bestowing the gift of this small and very timely insight with all of us. I know I for one needed to read this today. :-)
What's always surprising (you would think that I would stop being surprised by it, but I am not) is just how much clearer the priorities come into focus when I can stop and gather in the way you talked about Dana. What once was just this bundle of "gotta get done" becomes a clearer outline of how exactly to navigate through. And that is usually the key to my stress. Not responding out of habit often gives me the space to get a clearer view and deeper insights in exactly what does and doesn't need my attention, and how it is best to go about it.
We have a big bowl of pineapple guava on the counter from a friend's tree. What do you do with 'em? I've been adding to my husband's morning oatmeal, and he eats them plain, but I really can't find a lot to do with the things (and I dislike the perfume flavor, so I am no help, ha ha).
That was me this morning. The laundry needs to get done, I have schoolwork to do, I may need to go into the office, I have a move to plan, I have an apartment to clean. What did I do? I spent an hour in bed, just breathing and petting my cats. Thank you for reminding us that sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to just be.
There's always something to do....something that has to be done....a call to make! But life is sometimes about simplicity - sipping tea is like meditation - it grounds you, and makes you realise that sometimes all the anxiety isn't worth it! It's just good to detach sometimes!
@Charlotte I think they're pineapple guavas!
Thanks. That was really sweet and heartwarming :)
Those little guavas grew by the gazillions on a tree in front of my childhood home. Mom would give each of us kids a butter knife and tell us to eat as many as we wanted. We'd cut them in half and then squooosh the fruit right into our mouths, much the way we would later squeeze jello shooters out of the little paper cup, only probably a little healthier. So delicious; such a wonderful memory of hanging out with my big brothers. Thank you.
Yes, LiLi24, they are pineapple guavas and thank you LolaDanger for telling me how to eat them! I bought them at the farmers' market because they were so beautiful but knew nothing about them. And, everyone, thank you for your comments and stories. Each one a treasure. Truly.
In New Zealand we call them feijoas... They make a really good crumble, but most of the time we just slice them in half and scoop out the insides. Pretty much everyone has at least a couple of feijoa trees in their garden so they are EVERYWHERE in autumn.
It's Feijoas! My fav fruit in the entire world!
How wonderful that sounds. It's certainly important to find that quiet place. A place to reflect and pray and become thankful.