Today is my first day ‘off’ in 8 days. Frantic, grueling days of holiday retail. By the evening, I arrive home exhausted and wound up like a ‘Chatty-Cathy’ with a stuck string. Even after a glass of red, the reel of the day still whirrs through my head keeping me from my longed-for slumber.
I marvel at people — including a few of my colleagues — who work more than one job and routinely put in 50 to 60 hours a week or more, sometimes 7 days a week. And I’m grateful that other than this time of year, I don’t have to. I really enjoy the constant buzzing of people around books — just not for 8 days straight. Being ‘on’ and rushed does not make for good living — at least not the kind of living I’m interested in.
But thanks to my dog, I discovered a quick-fix. A simple thing to do, almost like an instant-meditation. When Tetley first scratched at the door insisting he needed to go out, I complained a bit but pulled on a jacket, clicked on his leash and went out into the night. The moon was almost full and spectacular in the night sky. I looked up and kept looking up. Just that – looking up – the beat of my heart slowed. I feel this any time I look up – to gaze at trees, a bird soaring across the sky, the clouds. Such a simple thing – looking up – calms and inspires me to breathe deeply. Perhaps it’s the reminder of things greater than myself?