I have an apology for my readers, and all of you who depend on this occasional newsletter to stay up to date on my upcoming events. You have not heard from me much lately. My last newsletter was in January!
I’ve been busy. That’s what many of us say when there’s something we haven’t done that affects other people, and to be fair, it’s true. Our plates are too full, the needs too unrelenting, the opportunities too many and rich, the relationships that deserve our tending too hungry. So much.
My business is shifting gears before I’ve been able to put the support in to address that, and I’m a bit at sixes and sevens. (I’ve always loved that old saying, which means being in a state of disorder.) And the newsletter is just the easiest thing to say “I can’t do that now.”
But I have an obligation to you (and to my business) to stay in
touch! Our lives are filled with these honorable obligations, big and small. And our strange modern life makes it nearly impossible to fulfill even the ones we most value.
That’s what sabbath is for. It is not simply the time to rest when we have everything done. It is the time we rest even though everything is never done: we rest anyway. First, of course, because we need the rest. But also, more spiritually important, because it right-sizes us.
Our world wishes to convince us that if we had the right to do list, the right productivity app, the right mindset, the right help, the right plan, we could get it all done. And when, inevitably, it’s not all done, we can be tempted to ask ourselves, why didn’t we get it done? If we’d made the right effort, surely we would have, this time?
But that implies we’re bigger than reality. That somehow, we have the capacity to stop life from continuing to pour towards us. But we don’t. We play large roles in our lives: as parents, as creative people, as friends, etc. But overall, in the scale of things, yes, we’re small!
This is actually quite good news, if we can make the adjustment. But it’s hard. And that’s where sabbath comes in. Stopping anyway: stopping even though it isn’t all done. Resting, and honoring both nature and the larger forces of life that surround us and shape our experience.
Consistently dropping the ball on things that we care about can be a sign we have to trim our responsibilities (boundaries work). But it can also be a sign that we aren’t resting enough, that we’re trying to do it all even as life continually shows us we simply are not doing it all, and never will.
So, thank you newsletter! For showing me at my right size in life, and forcing me to rest even though it isn’t all done. And, I do hope to bring this one to you with a little bit more consistency in the future.
What is your experience with busyness and sabbath? Please share on my blog below.
Thank you, Leslie, for this message on Finding Sabbath and “resting even though everything is never done.” It is striking a deep chord with me, not so much as it applies on a daily or weekly basis, but on a whole life basis.
Yes! Thank you for saying this. It’s tremendously important. Wellness is only partly found in healing and completing. A great deal of wellness is bound up in honoring that the journey is always incomplete, that edgy acceptance may be on hand, that things of great importance may never be finished, and yet, joy and okayness today may be available anyway…
Rest is resistance. I was introduced to this concept recently and I love it. Resistance to the machine of doing doing doing. Take care.
Oh, a lovely re-frame! I do think that is part of what the early Hebrews understood in this theologically as well. It’s a radical matter.
Dealing with long covid fatigue since Thanksgiving has forced me to slow down to almost a complete stop. As I begin to recover, I have to assess, and assess again, is this mine to do, is this mine to do right now? Is there any part of this that I can ask for help with? I have had to ask for and, equally difficult, receive help with the most basic things. But now, as I have regained some strength, it is perhaps even more difficult to continue to do that, instead of trying to do everything for myself, and then collapsing. I am learning from my small dog, who plays hard, with great concentration, and then flops down and rests, easily and deeply.
So sorry you’ve been dealing with that Stina! And yeah, I’ve heard that adjusting limits as you go along is a big part of the process. I remember learning as a parish minister I could work 24/7 and not get everything done, so why not work 40 hours and not get everything done? 🙂
I spent all day yesterday (Sunday, 3/10) watching two women’s basketball games, then a cooking competition that I find entertaining. Other than feeding my dog and myself, I nothing constructive other than some simple hand-weaving while I watched tv. I kept waiting to feel guilty, but it never happened. My wife is recovering from long covid, my dog has arthritis and dementia, and I’m months behind on a weaving commission, and I did not feel one iota of guilt yesterday.
I slept better last night, and awoke this morning calm and more rested than I have felt in weeks, if not months. My list of what needs doing did not yell at me one time today. I got stuff done, got errands run, enjoyed my meals in a leisurely way, and generally enjoyed all of it.
It took until lunch today to recognize that what I did yesterday was to practice Sabbath. Maybe my first ever real day of rest and recreation. It won’t be my last for sure!! In fact, I’m already looking at how soon I can do it again. (Part of that depends on the upcoming women’s basketball tournament . . . )
Ah….:-)
I have been trying to work in a Sabbath in my week for years! Maybe succeeded only a handful of times. I do love the concept though. I also think it would be great if we could all have a one year sabbatical every seven years for the purpose of rest and replenishment! Wishful thinking…..
Of course that would require support from the community. I believe that was common practice in ‘ancient’ times in the Jewish faith.
Yes, not only community support — it was a communal obligation (one of the Ten Commandments!). It goes back to that right-sizing: that context, making sure we never forget that we aren’t God. 🙂
All of what you said Leslie and what others commented resonate with me as well. After years of driving myself relentlessly to fix things for myself and others (mostly for others), the gift of Rheumatoid Arthritis was bestowed on me. If it had never developed, I would still have my nose to the grindstone. Now I decline requests for help without feeling the guilt I once felt or allow myself to be bulldozed into giving up my time for others. My health and strength made people make unreasonable demands on me. Now, I ask for help when I need it. What is interesting is those who received the most help from me in the past are those who do the least for me now. I do however enjoy catnapping when I can, and simply doing nothing for a change.
Running into new limitations in our life is really hard, and they can be great teachers, too.