Rest: Part 2

The previous post on "rest" as a spiritual practice received a number of warm responses.  And my Brother Jack Gillespie (see his own wonderful blog, Celtic Odyssey, here) asked the important and challenging question, what does rest actually look like, at least for me.  Let me explore that idea here.

First thought -- it depends on what kind of "tired" you are. Physical exhaustion from a good run, or stacking wood, or playing in the yard with the little ones is easy -- sit for a bit and let the muscles recoup, and you're on your way.  Physical exhaustion from chronic or intermittent and unpredictable pain is another issue entirely.  Rest may then require medication to relieve suffering, even if just for a short time.

Mental exhaustion will require a different mode of rest. Finding time for "mindless" or mind-restoring activities may be what's called for: some people knit, or do puzzles.  Yoga, walking and meditation are some of my favorites in this category, and I've been on the short end of having the time to practice these regularly.

In addition, I might posit another form of weariness as well -- social exhaustion.  Too many people, too many conversations, too much about everyone else's needs, or crises, or drama, and not enough time to center back into the space of quiet inner awareness.  Over-exposure to social media might also be a factor here, and unplugging for a period of time has become a frequent suggestion in the self-care world. 

To Jack's question, what is "rest" for me?  My challenge at the present moment is that I am experiencing elements of all three types of stress -- some difficult headaches, some mental stress involving work, study, and teaching, and a sense of being over-stretched in my commitments outside of the hermitage, resulting in not enough time in that deep sanctuary of peace that I need.

Here's what I'm doing: I've arranged some days and half-days to take off from work.  I know not everyone has this luxury, but the demands in my workplace are fluid, and I'm taking advantage of getting past the high-demand season to rely on my colleagues to pick up a couple of low-demand shifts for me.  They are a blessing for which I am profoundly grateful.

I'm also temporarily giving up my yoga classes.  That was a tough decision.  It was a choice between two forms of self-care, and I chose the option of staying at home in the hermitage vs. going out yet one more evening in the week.  

And, I know that I have one turning point coming up soon -- I defend my doctoral dissertation on December 4.  Once that date is past, I expect much of the stress I've been carrying will begin to dissipate. At least, that's what those around me assure me will happen.

My goal at the moment is to increase time in the hermitage.  Days or evenings or weekends, time in quiet and solitude, maybe even in prayer or meditation or chanting.  Less doing and more being.  If anything, this time of over-exposure in the world has underscored the importance for me of the calling to solitude to which I committed myself last June.  

So, thank you my brother for this opportunity to explore an important idea in some greater depth.  I would love to hear more from others regarding what exhausts them and how they find rest in their busy lives.