Come, Rest Awhile

You have forgotten what it is to smile
In your too busy life­ come, rest awhile.

::

Do you take breaks? 

Do you know how to rest?

I don’t.

I am drawn to busyness. Always doing things, planning things, evaluating, re-planning.

And at the same time I am constantly wanting, needing, wishing for more time with my boys, and thinking, planning and evaluating ways to make that happen.

When I have the time and space to just “be” with them, so many times I end up with the itch to get busy with something else: cleaning up, cooking/packing  lunches, insidious email checking, organizing, daydreaming about a backyard renovation project, sewing/fixing/making something, running errands… you get the picture.

Before you know it I am off, either in body or in mind – away from my people who I love so dearly. Away, and busy.

::

This past Sunday I devoted 7 hours to food shopping and prep. Chopping, stirring, baking, packing and freezing. While husband and baby napped/watched football (so so sweetly) and older son entertained himself on the computer (upstairs, removed from the rest of us). A pretty typical Sunday afternoon.

For sure, food is a necessity. It does need to be procured and prepared. In those 7 hours I did a lot of work that will make many of our weekday lunches and dinners a bit quicker to the table (and healthy). But when it was all said and done, I was acutely aware of what I had traded that day:

Time to rest.

Unstructured time with my boys.

A bit of calm before a new week was to begin.

::

I often wonder, “What I am hiding from?”

What am I covering over with all this busyness? I can honestly say that I don’t know the answer.

That night, as my racing mind was slowly winding down to sleep, one very clear bit of truth emerged. The only way to discover the answer to that question is to rest. Slow down the pacing of my mind and the industry of my hands.

Sit with stillness and find out what it has to teach me.

::

Come, Rest Awhile
by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Come, rest awhile, and let us idly stray
In glimmering valleys, cool and far away.

Come from the greedy mart, the troubled street,
And listen to the music, faint and sweet,

That echoes ever to a listening ear,
Unheard by those who will not pause to hear­

The wayward chimes of memory’s pensive bells,
Wind-blown o’er misty hills and curtained dells.

One step aside and dewy buds unclose
The sweetness of the violet and the rose;

Song and romance still linger in the green,
Emblossomed ways by you so seldom seen,

And near at hand, would you but see them, lie
All lovely things beloved in days gone by.

You have forgotten what it is to smile
In your too busy life­come, rest awhile.

::

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