Today is a Sunday with no plans. Nowhere to be. At some point I’ll need to venture to the grocery store for lunch fixin’s for the week. That will take maybe thirty minutes.
I did a little laundry. Made eggs for my daughter and her friend. Straightened up a bit. Putzed.
Now I’ll write a few letters. Read. Think about things. Wander into the backyard and marvel at the plants and trees. My sweetheart is a good gardener. Two of my favorite TV characters when I was little were Farmer Green Jeans from Captain Kangaroo and the Professor from Gilligan’s Island. I married a fella who resembles both in some nice ways. I also loved Underdog and Aquaman and Batman. These are random thoughts which produce nothing. I pick an orange and eat it. Throw the peels in the compost.
The garden in winter lies mostly under a layer of mulch. Things are quiet under there. Resting. If the resting period doesn’t happen, there is no riot of production in spring. Even dirt has to rest.
A nagging voice inside demands to know what I will accomplish today. There are twinkle lights over my fireplace. I met a nice person yesterday and we talked for almost two hours. How wonderful this moment is. Big moment and small moment.
Everything is just as it should be. Nothing to fix. Without this time in my soft flannel shirt from the Goodwill store there is no worthwhile production later. There is only stress and treadmills and conveyer bills. Haha I just wrote conveyer bills instead of conveyer belts. I was not born to pay bills and die. I saw that quote on Facebook. I am thinking of writing a horror story about how those quotes on Facebook are channels of the devil to worm into our brains and control us. I don’t know how it ends.
Another word for Savasana in yoga is Corpse Pose. This is what happens at the end of a series of poses so that the body and mind can incorporate the work the yogi has just done into the system. Corpse Pose isn’t an accurate term because I always wake up after. I will wake up tomorrow. This isn’t a dead-end street, as it were. I’m just composting.
Advice to myself: Release shame for doing nothing. Hush that nagging voice. Savasana is integral to an artist’s life. To any life. Shh.
Make a list of twenty things you have accomplished in the past seven days. See that list? You should be tired. Take a day to rest for the love of God.
Write about the ideal month-long vacation you would take if money were no object. This is an imagination game, but be mindful about it. Write about what you would truly enjoy and find restful.
Imagine what you would do with a year-long Sabbatical from work. List the projects you would work on, the enjoyable, wonderful things you would do. Is there any way to incorporate these ideas into the configuration of your life right now? What if you could?