Our oldest daughter quit her job about a month ago, siting exhaustion, which was right on target. Every so often, she'd gotten to the point of total frustration being that her boss would leave her completely in charge (which was an honor), but also with a heap-load of work to do alone. Not surprising, when she quit, she immediately had gall bladder trouble, which thankfully I knew how to treat. Stress. Her body was rebelling. Didn't help that at the same time, her brothers decided to be rebellious. Bad timing, plus it was on the heels of her breaking off a 3-year relationship.
Since her senior year of high school, she's worked, starting part-time at the antique shop where my husband has his shop. And about three years ago she moved on to a machine embroidery shop, specializing in monogramming. Not sure why I'm telling you that, but only to say she's been busy for 10 years. Worked constantly.
I've been thinking a lot about pauses. Times of quiet. Extended moments of rest. And as I thought about what that meant, I passed over what I've been doing for the last thirty-plus years. College, met my husband the month after graduation, engaged two months later and married within eight months of our meeting-----I worked at a commercial Interior Design firm, and 2 years later we had our first child, followed by seven more including two miscarriages. Homeschooling, which will continue for five more years.
No pauses.
The only rest has been the snatches I've taught myself to grab. Operative word being 'grab' which is sort of sad. I can remember the best pauses, one standing out when our power went out a few years back. It was summer-time and hot, but there was a peace about it. No electricity, which is a pain when it's hot, but not hearing the subtle hum of the wires (I know, it's all in my head) was so restful. (I stand by my belief that electricity makes noise.) I even enjoyed using candles at night. Being hot isn't a memory at all, but the deep quiet was wonderful.
And at William Faulkner's house back in the fall. Standing in his front garden and soaking in the silence. And a recent trip to the library alone I gradually got to the place inside where I feel so smooth. I'm telling you, it rarely happens, and I can't make it. It has to just come to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?....not just time of rest, but the times where your physical body feels it too. Deep restfulness. I'm telling you, it's very rare.
Not sure where I'm going with this, but for the remaining years the Lord blesses me with I'd enjoy discovering how to achieve that restfulness deep inside without it happening in a serendipitous-sort-of-way. Guess I want to command it. Good luck with that, huh?
More is on my plate than is wise. Even tomorrow I have Sunday School alone, which is fine, but do you realize how many times we say something is fine, when it really isn't? We pile on stuff, lots of it important, but since everybody does it, it seems required. Do some, and when you're done, do more. Is life supposed to be this way?
I don't want to stay so busy doing nonessential things (how to decide which things fit in this category?) that there's no energy to do the fun stuff. Again, how to figure that one out is a mystery.
Just where my head is tonight. Time to set the clock ahead and get ready for bed. Morning will be here sooner than I'm wanting. Take care all.
One more thing...oldest daughter and I saw the 'Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel' movie this afternoon. Full theatre. A treat for sure, and as good as the first one. :)
