It’s 9.30am on a Sunday morning. Many people are still in bed, savouring this Spring morning. The clocks changed last night and robbed us all of an hour of sleep. Spring forward. Fall back.
I am not in bed. I was up before most of the city, packing my car, driving to the markets and setting up my stall full of artworks. The market officially opens in half an hour. I’m ready. My artworks are displayed, the cash drawer on my credit card reader organised. My day of work is well and truly underway. Now I just need some customers.
Traditionally, Sunday was meant to be a day of rest. The Bible says God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. In Taoism, rest is incorporated in the nature of things – all things in nature need rest to rejuvenate.
Good sleep has eluded me this week. Too much on my mind, I guess. And the added annoyance of a bout of costochondritis (inflammation of the cartilage that connects each rib to the sternum) which flares up from time to time makes sleeping difficult for more than an hour or two. So, I’ve been resting a lot, whenever I can.
Taking time to rest is important to us all. It’s how we recharge. And when we are well-rested, life doesn’t seem to be quite so difficult, does it?
When I was a kid, I hated taking naps. I always felt I’d miss out on something fun and exciting. I remember clearly one day when my grandmother was babysitting me. She put me down for a nap on her bed and told me to have a rest for an hour. I still didn’t know how to tell time, but she put her analogue clock next to my pillow (I think in the hope that the tick-tock would lull me to sleep) and told me that when the big hand of the clock had gone all the way around once, I could get up. I watched every second of that hour tick by. I wasn’t about to be tricked into having a nap. When I emerged an hour and one minute later (I didn’t want to be sent back for coming out early!) from the bedroom, my grandmother laughed so hard. She and I both discovered that day how stubborn I could be.
Now of course, I appreciate a good nap. And avail myself of them whenever I can.
But there are other ways I rejuvenate too that are restful. Sitting on my deck, writing in my journal is restful. Being in nature is always restful. Either sitting on the beach watching the waves come in and out or walking alone in the forest enjoying the psithurism of the wind in the trees.
I love the hustle and bustle of the markets; having people purchase beautiful things I have made to use or to give as gifts, but I’m always exhausted by the end of the day.
I will need to head home and recharge, ready for a new week.
What’s your favourite way to rest and recharge? Is it a special place or activity? I’d love to know.
Wishing you a more peaceful and restful Sunday than mine. Xx
P.S. Here’s a bit of psithurism for you from my favourite spot near my home. I hope you enjoy it.