Rest is Not a Luxury

The Necessity of Quiet Time

Rest is not a luxury. Rest is as essential as the seasons and as necessary as night. A life lived with fullest energy and expression requires us to downshift from time to time into an easy peace that renews our sense of wholeness and well-being.

Rest offers us the opportunity to unplug, to turn inward, to recharge and renew. It slows us down. It returns us to the inner touchstones that remind us who we are and how we want to be in this world. Rest enables us, once again, to see clearly the gift of this moment, this breath, this world.

A bountiful rest is a warm and welcoming sigh of relief. It is a morning snuggled beneath downy covers in pale winter light. It is the deep quiet of a lazy summer afternoon. And it is as right and true as the clear blue sky.

Why is it, then, that our moments of rest are so fleeting? Why do we ignore the whisper that tells us that we need a break? Why do we insist on running full speed ahead until we drop?

Somehow, it seems, we've fallen into the mistaken assumption that relaxation happens only when there is nothing left to do. Perhaps we've even mistaken rest for indulgence, laziness, whimsy. We've let the world convince us that more is better, faster is greater, and that naps are for sissies who can't hack the pressures of the modern world.

And so we have a tendency to charge full-throttled through our days, hurtling ourselves from one task to another. We worship at the altar of "just one more" task, trying to pack too much activity into too little space. And then we collapse into bed at night, weary and spent, wondering how we're going to do it all again tomorrow.

Let's reframe rest as a necessity for the strong rather than a folly for the weak. Let's commit to scheduling a little R&R into each day. Let's broaden our vision enough to reframe those unclaimed spaces in our lives as opportunities to soften, to exhale, to turn inward and grow still.

We might decide that no day is complete without at least an hour off. An afternoon nap. A walk in the woods. A good book. A few moments savoring absolutely nothing but each passing breath. These small gaps that soften the rhythm of our days become our soul food, renewing our spirits and restoring our hearts.

It sounds decadent, doesn't it? It sounds luxurious and perhaps even completely beyond possibility. But consider this: If your life doesn't have room for a few quiet moments amid the day's busy-ness, then what kind of life do you have?

Who knows what wonderful sounds we might hear if we quiet our voice and listen to the song of life. Who knows what may happen if each day, for at least a little while, we turn down the volume, take a few deep breaths, and ask the world to come to us for a change, instead of us breathlessly chasing after life.

We may even discover that - beautifully, miraculously - rest will reward us with us longer and more useful days. We may find that it helps keep our stores of inner fuel charged so that we no longer find ourselves teetering on the edge of existential exhaustion. And we will surely find that it helps us catch our balance before we fall off the edge of the world.

There's a holiness that comes in the quiet time where nothing much seems to happen. We are brought back home to ourselves. Our inner fires are stoked into brightest flame so that we may shine brightly once again. In these quiet spaces we are restored to our fullest selves, so that we may participate with whole heart in every last gift of the world.