Day of Rest

I’m in this strange space, this odd state today. It feels a bit like being hungover or jet lagged. I think it’s actually World Domination Summit love lag, a possibility hangover accompanied by waves of wonder and magic aftershocks that has brought about a sabbath, a day of rest that fell midweek.

I’m exhausted, existing in a whole other time zone, another reality. All I could manage today was walking the dogs, a shower, eating, and a long nap. This kind of day used to send me into fits. I’d power past the tired and overwhelm, keep working anyway, to the point of collapse or illness, chanting “have to, should, must, already wasted too much time.” I’d drag myself, push and pull and bully and smash myself to bits to get from this moment to the next, not stopping until I’d reached the goal, which I never did because I was always adding more things, having more ideas, creating more tasks for myself.

which way is up?

Be here now.
Be someplace else later.
Is that so complicated?
~Josh Pais (by way of Danielle LaPorte)

This goal thinking, this endless to-do list, this rush toward the real thing, the important moment, the big accomplishment, the grasping and reaching is exactly the thing that wastes time. It denies this moment, the one I’m in now. Denies my need for rest, to go more slowly, to ruminate and contemplate, to enjoy the ride. It says “hurry up” when I want to lollygag, fool around, dawdle. It rushes to get somewhere else when I long to be here, now.

So for today, I’m allowing myself to take it easy, to go slow, to accept that even if it means I miss out on something, it’s okay. Because what I definitely won’t miss is this moment. It’s all there is, and that’s such a gift, because in this moment there is the sound of the ocean and bird song, sun and a light breeze, two soft and sleepy dogs resting at my feet, my boy on his way to the store to buy vanilla ice cream to go with the peach cobbler he made while I napped, the tap of my finger on the keys and words to string together, and you, dear reader, to tell all this to. There is love and there is time, and that’s more than enough.

I am enough.

what tired looks like

If you look for love, open your eyes and heart and actively seek it out, cultivate your awareness of it, practice being mindful of it, you will begin to see it everywhere, in everything, in everyone, in every moment.

If you look for love, wish for it and dream of it, you will begin to notice it showing up in every moment to meet you where you are. It will throw its arms open wide and embrace you. It will warm every corner of your house, of your heart, bringing comfort and confidence to every minute.

If you look for love, no matter how long it has been, or how good you’ve gotten at rejecting and resisting it, you will find it, or rather, it will find you.

If you let it, open yourself to it, it will fill you up, every crack and corner, all the way from the bottoms of your feet to the tips of your fingers and up to the top of your head, all the way to every edge and into every space, pushing aside all the yuck and the broken and the mess, burning through all the should and have to and not enough, filling you full and shining out through your glowing, soft, alive animal body, turning you into a beacon of itself, a light of love for those others who are looking.