That’s what I need every day- a little bit of still life. No screens, no requests, no complaints, no lists, no dishes, no self-motivation, just a quiet rhythmical motion. Maybe of my hands knitting in the backyard while the kids play in the tree. Or rolling on the floor with the dogs. I may pick out songs that don’t exist on the piano or just the sway in the hammock chair for a couple of minutes.
My mother took a nap almost every day. Afterward, she read some a historical novel at the kitchen bar while eating a sandwich. My grandmother napped too and finished the ritual each afternoon with hot tea – still does. Sometimes when I’m there, we both lay down on the floor (for our backs) with our feet propped up on furniture and talk ’til we fall asleep in their quiet house.
If I put off “just being”, I won’t be able to settle down at bedtime and will find myself wide-eyed after midnight, feeling like something is missing; pacing on the inside. So yesterday we talked together and walked the dogs as a family in the late afternoon. I knitted on a blanket and practiced piano while my husband read to the kids. Then, later, I talked to my Grandmommy on the phone. A good day.
“In returning and rest, you shall be saved. In quietness
and confidence shall be your strength.” Isaiah 30:15
