More Rest and Comfort…
“It’s very important that we re-learn the art of resting and relaxing. Not only does it help prevent the onset of many illnesses that develop through chronic tension and worrying; it allows us to clear our minds, focus, and find creative solutions to problems.” —Thich Nhat Hanh
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves and the world is to rest and then rest some more.
Even as we perhaps berate ourselves that we must “do” something in light of events unfolding around us, kindness and patience may be called for instead.
An extra moment lingering over a cup of tea, cuddling on the sofa with beloved pets and people, laughing at a silly movie, or sleeping in may be just what our body, mind, and spirit need to return to wholeness.
“Especially with this ambient anxiety, I think we all need a little more rest and comfort.”
—Cathey Capers
Cathey shared these wise words with me in an email exchange yesterday and felt like a beautiful reminder that many of us are affected by the “ambient anxiety” in the world. Before deciding to leap into action or conversely, bury our heads in the sand, the wisest choice might be to work in extra moments of rest and comfort.
What can you do this week to give yourself some extra love and care? To rest? To feel comforted and held by the Holy One? This isn’t a cop out or slippery slope to avoiding reality. It’s self-care that gives you breathing room to prepare for shining your light brightly in whatever way you’re called to. Rest, repair, and renew.
May you seek and find delightful, nourishing ways to explore and experience the art of resting.
The Most Important Thing
“Sometimes, the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths, or the turning inwards in prayer for five short minutes.”
—Etty Hillesum
Let It Rest
“The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room, not try to be or do anything whatever.”
—May Sarton
Breathing Peace
If peace was something we could hold
In our hands,
we would mold it like clay.
We would shape it into a circle,
leaving our thumbprint on it,
then carefully pass it into
the knowing hands of the next person,
as if handling a newborn sparrow.
If peace was something we could breathe,
we would close our eyes and savor the precious air
flowing into our lungs –
passing through our lips.
That exhale would be a prayer.
It would be a song in three-part harmony.
If peace was something we could taste,
it would be figs drizzled with honey.
We would arrange it on a plate
with a silk-petaled sunflower
decorating the center.
We would pass the plate around
with reverence, ensuring that every single person
received nourishment.
If peace was something we could walk to,
it would be a sacred labyrinth of circles.
We would greet each other on the meditative path.
We would come together at the center
and admire our cohesive union-
arms raised to the sun,
rejoicing in what we could not see or touch,
but we could feel it.
We have been walking together
for such a long time.
We have always been at peace,
but we become lost in the forgetting.
—Cristina M. R. Norcross. Poem is featured in The Wonder of Small Things, edited by James Crew. You can find out more about Cristina on her website HERE.
