Wednesday, June 6, 2012

sacred rest

i don't rest well.

it's something that truly bothers those who care about me most. i am more than willing to push myself into a wall and just keep going until my face is pressed into the brick and my body is broken from the futility and sheer physical exhaustion. 

i don't comprehend this idea of rest. but oddly enough, it's something i crave. it's also something i fear.

fear has a quiet voice, a grown up kind. and she has something to say, all whispery with promises and barely there:  
honey, can you hold on? 
because if you sit with me a while, i will teach you something sacred. 

i think i fear that the world will stop turning if i don't keep pushing it around and around and around the sun, and then everything will collapse, and it will be my fault. 

and fear and i have not had a chance to sit and talk, because i've been too busy racing in circles. and i haven't been able to hear the sacred whispers. 

and then God decided that i had done enough, that my flailing needed to come to an end. and so He gave me this child, this little one inside my body who drains my energy and leaves me exhausted even after just rising from a nap. 
will you listen to Me now? 

and now i have no choice but to listen. the steaming mug of tea in my hand that sends up those fragrant waves, this is my brand of incense. the tapping of the little feet against my skin from the inside out, these are my meditation drums. 
 and so we converse, God and fear and i. 

about my fears of resting, that my world will stop turning if i sit. about my fears of mothering, that maybe i will break more than i will fix, and that i am not "cut out" for this. 

and fear voices her concerns, and the bigger Voice quiets them before the last breath leaves her mouth. 

it's a cycle, back and forth. and i am content to listen. to be still and know. 

to sip my tea and to soak in the drums that will be of a different style in a few months. i know i will miss them in a way. 

and i will weave feathers into my hair, and i will fearlessly rest. 


  1. i feel you in this...the feeling that the world will stop if i dont push it...i often have to make myself stop just to appreciate the moment...have had to learn that...and in it find joy

  2. there is such truth to this. your words, as always, are a beautiful :)

  3. This resonates me so much today. I'm in a strange period of resting as well (for different reasons though :) ) and it's been so scary for me. I didn't realize how much fear I had of not being constantly busy.

  4. i love that last line, this weaving feathers into my hair, and fearlessly resting. amen, friend. so beautiful.

  5. ah, rest. So elusive sometimes because we feel like we constantly need to push, push, push. Hoping your find sweet rest and peace today :).

  6. you eloquently express the fear I sometimes felt while raising my three kids. can I just tell you, you are doing far more right than wrong. you are making more strides forward than back. if you are loving completely, respecting and nurturing, you are doing what you ought to do.

  7. the sabbath is a blessed practice. lean in deep and rest your legs and eyes.

    lovely, friend.

  8. Such a wholistic devotion woven through fear and rest and listening and acceptance. Thank you. xo

  9. We all need a day of rest (she says, before getting up to fold the laundry).


I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon