The long weekend was lush with time. I had planned to do quite a few things, but they went out the window as the clouds rolled in and the rain fell and fell and fell. We read the papers from cover to cover, did the quiz, frowned over the crossword and Sudoku. I started and finished a new book. Napped. Chatted. Had some rambling thoughts and made some loose plans about a walking trip next year. Napped a bit more, the cat moving from lap to lap as the weak sunshine shifted in the dust-mote-spangled light.
I could have dusted. I could have cleaned the house from top to toe. I could have re-done my website, as planned. I could have outlined classes for the rest of the term. There is no end to the things I could and perhaps should have done. But I, we, chose to 'stop the clocks' and move to our own rhythm for a change. The less we did, the deeper the sighs, tension seeping from our pores as we moved from always being on to truly switching off.
How often does this happen? I tend to be a bit of an energiser bunny, and love doing all the things all of the time. So it feels luxurious and indulgent to pause, to let the hardest decision be 'Would you like a chocolate Hobnob with your tea?', and to settle back into the couch cradling my Kindle and a warm mug. To switch off my phone, to step away from obligation, and simply be. To remove the word 'should' from my vocabulary for a bit.
It felt like proper self-care. It felt like holidays used to feel, when we went somewhere simple and just stayed put, rather than lunching and shopping and entertaining. All of that is fine, fun, some of the time. But if we don't temper it with a pause, with getting back to our softer, simpler selves, we can lose sight of the uncomplicated beauty of gazing out the window at the birds and the trees, autumn and winter leaves falling like snow.
When we are constantly on, doing all the 'shoulds', we may well tick many jobs off our list. There is a satisfaction to this, and it is how stuff gets done. But what may suffer is our attention - toward others, and ourselves. In that busy, productive state we are usually looking forward, past where we are now to the end result, and quickly moving on to the next thing. Because there is always a next thing. There always will be. Often what forces us to take a pause is our body calling out for attention, or our mind overflowing with obligation, stuffed to the gills until we are hobbled by headaches and anxiety and sheer overwhelm.
So, when you get the opportunity, take the time to tuck your feet under a cozy blanket, scoop a pet onto your lap, and immerse yourself in a good book or proper conversation with a loved one. Or it may look like a long walk, creative play, or spending unstructured time alone or with others. However it looks, let your focus be in the moment, rather than in the future. Let yourself soften and settle in. Lose the agenda, the timeframe, the sense of needing completion. Just be.
The world will wait while you take a pause.
With love,
Amanda xx
Comentarios