Friday dip - intentional rest

Thoughts to wash over you for the weekend

Having emerged from my cocoon after taking a few days out to allow my body to rest and recuperate (following on from my article ‘Listen to your body when it whispers’), I am reminded of the power of intentional rest.

What do we mean by intentional rest?

What did it mean for me?

Stop all the clocks

One of the main things was coming off the clock. My daughters were away, presenting a rare opportunity to not be on demand for someone else’s schedule, so I cleared mine and attempted not to even look at the clock. To exist in tune with my body - sleeping, waking, resting, eating as I felt the need, regardless of whether it was 3pm or 3am.

Rather helpfully on the first day there was a power cut so all of the clocks in my house reset, adding to a complete lack of sense of time. Whilst my cooker showed 2035, my alarm clock steadfastly flashed 0000 and Alexa didn’t even know what day it was let alone the animal of the week, or have the capacity to tell me a shit joke. I opted not to reset any of them.

Photo by Fredrik Öhlander on Unsplash

I dare say I followed a pretty standard circadian rhythm - my years as a shift worker teaching me how the body yearns for this state of being - but what a luxury to allow it to happen naturally, and to only be able to guess at the time of day or night...or to stop guessing at all.

Noticing

Waking on (I think) Wednesday (probably) morning to torrents of summer rain, I looked out of the window from my bed to see Box Hill shrouded in low cloud, peeking over the rooftops, and in the absence of distraction, I was transported back to a moment in Malaysia.

Memories of Penang Hill, lush and green, shrouded in mist, visible above the tops of the temples. In that moment I could smell the same air - the scent of rain awakening leaves, mixed with dust and traffic, where nature co-exists cheek and jowl with ‘civilisation’, a sense of anticipation and renewal hanging in the air. An extraordinary feeling of connection with a place and time on the other side of the world, and another period of my life.

Books written in my head without even leaving my bed.

Photo by Abdelrahman Ismail on Unsplash

I could almost see the dusky leaf monkeys in the trees in the distance...except God only knows what the good people of Surrey would make of that on their yomp up Box Hill with toddlers and golden retrievers in tow.

An hour (ish?) later as I glanced out again, the skies had cleared. My view now like a chocolate box village in the Cotswolds. My rooftop no longer a Buddhist temple, but a ‘storybook’ pitch roof sloping down onto a sea of thatch.

Trains chugging softly in the background conjuring images of slowness and olde sweet shoppes. Memories of the magical model railway museum in Bourton-on-the-water, toasted teacakes and honey crumpets. I wonder if the food memories signify that I am hungry, although I’m not sure if it’s time for breakfast or lunch. It doesn’t matter either way.

Do I eat cereal or a sandwich? Fruit or pasta? Poached egg or cake? What does my body want when I take it away from the norms of routine? I snuck a chocolate eclair into the shop when I was planning this rest, so I decide that perhaps I’ll just have that with a giant cup of tea.

Photo by Vicky Hincks on Unsplash

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Memories

Staying in the present inspires me to wander purposefully into the past. Thoughts of Malaysia and the Cotswolds bring me to the photo albums buried in the back of the cupboard. The dusty bundles of nostalgia I carefully constructed in the blissful times before digital. When I used to wait so excitedly for rolls of film to be developed, planning an evening with my travel companion to relive the near memories - the tang of chemical bursting into the air upon opening the glossy photo wallet filled with magic.

Oh look at us there!! Oh that one is gorgeous!! Oops that’s my foot. What is that even of?! You look so happy. Remember that cafe?

No corrections, no filters, no re-takes. Collections of shared experience. My generation’s actual #bereal.

I’ve always been one to take lots of photos. I remember bringing back TWELVE rolls from our honeymoon. 12 x 36 photos!!! That’s 432 photos, of three weeks in Tanzania and Zanzibar. It cost me a fortune to get developed, even when I opted for the slow return instead of the next day delivery which was pressing fervently on my patience, but those photos brought me such delight. They were my most precious collection. I haven’t looked at them in years, and now I can take 432 photos on my iPhone in an afternoon.

No wonder we’re all exhausted.

Photo by Kirk Cameron on Unsplash

Elemental Day Retreat

A few weeks ago I attended an Elemental Day Retreat with a beautiful gathering of people, led by the simply wonderful human

Katherine May

, author of Wintering and Enchantment (amongst others).

As a writer, I let myself ‘be’ that day. Actively not creating content as I walked around. Not planning the article I would write or the pearls of wisdom I would share. Not stopping to write down notes when inspiration came. Enjoying the space, the company, and the moment for what it was. The glorious freedom of just ‘being’, with no required outcome.

My time there and the wonderful new connections I made taught me what I needed to know for my self-retreat this week.

One new friend, Sharon, describes intentional rest as being:

‘about slowing down to be able to reconnect with our body through ways that allow our nervous system to regulate and for us to feel more calm, more balanced, more able to show up for the life we want’.

Another, Bernie, discusses beautifully how intentional rest is an:

‘innate drive within us’. How we have ‘just lost touch with it because we have been led to believe that intentional busyness and productivity are more valuable’, and ‘how it is essential for our physical and emotional health...bringing presence, mindfulness, creativity, connection, healing and guess what?...productivity!’

I couldn’t agree more.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

This week I didn’t read or absorb much, didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t really go anywhere. I slept A LOT, and I wrote a lot too. By allowing myself real time to rest, my creativity flowed in a peaceful and natural way.

Intentional rest bringing me butterflies, summer rain and stopped clocks.

What might it look like for you?

Love & lemons 🍋

Em x