Saturday, December 16: Rest

I don't think I have slept in since we started Petalouda House. Probably an exaggeration, but close to true. If I want spiritual time and a work out, I have to be up by 5. One or the other, up by 6. By 6:30, there are things that need to start getting done.

Today I slept in until 9 and my spouse took care of everything. Usually I am the one who deals with mornings both because of my wife's work hours and because I am more of a morning person.

Sleeping in was probably the best Christmas present I could have received. SToday, a good night's sleep (and then some) feels the same as an hour of working out and an hour of meditation.

So, nothing deep here today, folks. Be grateful for unexpected gifts. Get enough sleep. Take care of yourselves this season. Treat yourself gently. Peace.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mary Oliver's "Goldenrod"

In her poem "Goldenrod," Mary Oliver begins: "On roadsides, in fall fields, in rumpy bunches, saffron and orange and pale gold, in little towers, soft as mash, sneeze-bringers and seed-bearers, full of bees sand yellow beads and perfect flowerlets and orange butterflies." I love the phrase "rumpy bunches." That was the phrase that caused me to remember what goldenrod looked like. Hiking the prairie, the goldenrod are the yellow plants that seem to gather and bend together, old women, golden-headed instead of gray, whispering their secrets. They stink, and they are rugged and disheveled, but they are also beautiful in their own way. I loved the prairie from the moment I moved here, but I learned to love it more because of S, who was so in awe of living in the midst of so much open space when I first got her. She loved to walk with me, noticing plant and snake and bird, breathing in, in, in. Later, walking ...
Read more

Song for Autumn

"In the deep fall/don't you imagine the leaves think how/comfortable it will be to touch the earth instead of the/nothingness of air and the endless/freshets of wind?" Mary Oliver writes in "Song for Autumn." What does it mean to live a good life, to have a good death? A mentor of mine died a good death recently, loved deeply by so many who visited regularly until the very end. I never went to see him, even though S asked many times that we do so. I had heard from a mutual friend that he'd said, "Let them come if they need to say goodbye," and I didn't. I didn't because the last time I saw him, he had hugged me tightly and told me how glad he was to have worked with me, and I had said the same. We both knew, of course, that he was dying, but in that moment, surrounded by the noise and laughter at a community meal, we didn't have to say it. Before then, S and I had presented him with a painting of his favorite local hang out at his retir...
Read more

Reversals

...They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord! If only this vision could come true. If only all of us who truly love peace, who are truly committed to non-violence, could do enough, individually and collectively, to make this prophesy true. The most beautiful image, I think, is the image of changing the use of a weapon into a tool used to nourish, to feed the hungry. I am thinking today about reversals, about how we are most often blocked not by what we actually have but by how we view--and then use--what we have. A student interviewed me this week about teaching basic writing. She asked me what I thought of the stigma attached to the course. She wanted to know if I could think of a name other than Fundamentals of Writing for the course that might have less stigma, or if I had any thoughts about why ...
Read more