Year-End, My One Word – Rest

As the year winds down for those doing One Word practice, many of us have turned our attention to discovering or choosing a new word for 2021.  Because Carolyn, whose blog has guided my practice this year, has been hosting a lively and inspiring conversation about selecting new words, it’s been tempting to let rest fade away quietly in December.  But I am a dutiful sort, and I know I owe rest a debt of gratitude and a summation of its impact on my life this past year.

It’s taken me nearly six years of retirement to settle into a slower, more mindful, less frantic pace of life.  Old habits die hard—the tendency to say yes and get involved before really thinking, in particular. But 2021 has offered me more open space and more free time, and the word rest has lent focus for settling into a new mode of living. 

These days, in both winter and summer, I routinely wake up at around four a.m. and, unable to go back to sleep, get up and begin my day while it is still dark and silent.  I’ve watched and photographed many glorious dawns, sat completely still in my cozy den with my dog beside me and a cat on my lap, just breathing and listening to the silence. So, each day begins gently and quietly. 

There is always at least one long, slow-paced walk early in the day, amid the beauty of green summer foliage or among stark bare winter branches.  I delight in the dog’s excited sniffing, in watching the trees sway, or searching for wildflowers. I try to get outside my head on these walks and observe what is happening around me. Just watch and listen.

After that, work—connecting, communicating, planning, writing, gardening, cleaning, errands, appointments.  Following the teaching of the Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, I try to do each task mindfully. Of course, it’s going to take many more years of practice to be as aware and attentive as I aspire to be, but I’ve noticed tiny incremental improvements over the last six years, and that gives me hope.

For instance, I now sit down to eat meals most days, departing from my previous practice of grabbing bites between tasks or standing at the kitchen counter and spooning food into my mouth, often coughing after swallowing each mouthful. In summer, I may eat breakfast and lunch in the garden; a pair of clippers and a watering can close at hand so that I can roam from bush to flower, watering, and pruning as needed. When I first sit down at dinner time,  I pause and become fully present in the room, at the table, to the person(s) across from me and the food before me.  I give thanks and smell the delicious odors.  I try to put my fork down after each bite and concentrate on chewing and swallowing.  I still eat more quickly than anyone else at the table, but slightly more slowly than I used to do.

Swimming has gotten slower, and I spend more time luxuriating in the hot tub and the sauna after my swim.  I often take short naps, sometimes only 20 minutes, but they are deliciously relaxing and bring balance. Though I’ve not read nearly as many books as I would like, I’ve read more than in past years. 

These settling changes have come about gradually and naturally, but my mental and spiritual exploration of the word rest has influenced and provided new motivation for them. Using resources provided by Carolyn, monthly check-ins have enabled me to probe the meaning of rest for myself and the world around me.  Definitions, synonyms, word associations, visual images, sounds, and watching others have opened new doorways to understanding.  

For instance, I spent significant time contemplating balance, juxtaposing effort and rest using this image.  I would not know what rest is without exerting effort, and vice versa.

The Roots and Fruits image of a tree with many branches helped me hold all my discoveries about rest together, organically and systemically.

The Foundation and Building Blocks diagram teased out basic concepts intrinsic to my experience of rest.

Living with rest for the last year, reflecting on its meaning, has been not so much an attempt to change as an experience of noticing—observing the gradual transformation happening within me. With intention and practice, with patience, acceptance of failure, and beginning again, I’ve come to a more restful way of being.  Watching the process brings joy. Discerning progress, however small, gives hope.

I still have a long way to go.  My habits are tenacious.  But I am not leaving rest behind.  Indeed, I’ve chosen next year’s word(s) to take me further along the path to accepting, letting go, and resting.

Links to my previous posts on rest in 2021.

One Word – With All Due Respect

REST – My One Word – Mid-Year Check-In – With All Due Respect

REST – My One Word – Mid-Year Check-In

Little did I know in January 2021, when I chose my “one word” for the year (see this post), that I was in for an adventure in insomnia. 

Truthfully, I thought of rest mostly as slowing down, taking life easier, feeling more relaxed, healthier, and balanced.  But I didn’t think about its relationship to sleep.  How dense can one be!

Then, a necessary medication change sent me on an unexpected journey. I began having trouble falling asleep, started waking up multiple times during the night, and getting up earlier and earlier. (I’m writing this at 4:30, but I have been up since 3:00 a.m.) My excellent nurse practitioner medical team suggested cognitive behavioral therapy, and I had a couple of sessions with a very astute therapist.  She recommended creating a sleep ritual, so, following her suggestions, I started stepping outside to get a breath of fresh air just before bed. I made the bedroom darker and covered the digital clock. I began writing in a “brain dump” book and reading a couple of quotations from Hush by sleep expert Rubin Naiman.  Then I turn out the light, make an intention to let go of wakefulness and embrace sleep, and start breathing deeply and relaxing progressively from head to toe. On most nights, I am asleep within twenty minutes.

BUT I awake again at 2:00 a.m., and often I am unable to go back to sleep. So when I awoke at 2:00 this morning, I asked myself, “What does insomnia have to teach me?

One of the wisest of Dr. Naiman’s bits of sleep advice is: “The best strategy in our war against sleeplessness is surrender.  We wage war against illness.  We fight disease, kill germs, and go to battle with our symptoms.  This is most evident with insomnia.  Many of us silently hurl expletives at our nighttime wakefulness.  But the peace of sleep cannot be realized through an inner civil war.  To sleep well, we must learn to approach sleep in a thoroughly nonviolent way.  Giving up this fight is not about a forced supplication, but rather a gracious surrender.”

Who knew embracing “rest” would lead me to contemplate surrender? And not just in sleep, in everything. I’ve begun to notice how much of my life is about struggle, particularly struggle against something.  It takes a lot of effort to pit yourself against gravity, the clock, responsibilities, aging, physical and mental diminishment, cold, heat, uncomfortable or painful feelings, disappointments, loss, unfulfilled dreams.

Some synonyms for surrender are “to cease to resist, yield, acquiesce.”  I’ve deliberately chosen positive ones because I don’t want to imply that resistance is never appropriate. Resistance and struggle are never effortless, though, and rest is. So, my mid-year check-in on rest has brought some of the following concepts to the fore. In no particular order:

  • Effort requires balancing with rest.
  • Exerting control is exhausting; letting go, accepting, and flowing with whatever is happening is restful.
  • Rest is self-care and self-respect—no guilt trip.
  • Stop being so damn responsible!
  • Time is abundant, not scarce.
  • Rest first, do later.
  • Breathe.  It’s the most restful thing you can do!

One Word

Carolyn, a friend and blogger I deeply respect and whose posts I follow avidly, has recently revamped her blog site.  It’s now called Your One Word. The idea is that you select, through a process of inner listening, a word that will be a hallmark of your life for a year.  Hallmark is, for this purpose, defined as a distinguishing characteristic, trait, or feature.  It may be a quality or virtue you aspire to, a practice you want to embrace, or something you want to understand more deeply.  Through reflection, active noticing, perhaps even study, you will let the meaning of the word unfold in your daily life for a year, checking in monthly or even weekly to become aware of its effect on your thoughts, dreams, and actions.

Carolyn provides some helpful resources for choosing your word and working with it regularly.

My word for 2021 is REST.  My word for 2020 was “slowly,” but I was a dismal failure at incorporating it into my life.  Anyone who knows me will laugh at my 2020 choice because I do everything as fast as possible – walk, eat, exercise, clean, shower, dry my hair, read, type, cook…ad infinitum. One thing I learned from “slowly” last year was how fast is my usual pace.  I also observed others around me, particularly my partner, and noticed how graceful and gentle moving slowly is by comparison.

I am 68 now, and I’m tired, in general, and in particular of going fast. So, without moving too far from last year’s aspiration, I chose “rest” for 2021, or rather, it chose me.  Already, with Carolyn’s help and inspiration, I am learning about what rest means for me.

I want to share with you the list of questions that arose when I began to explore my word:

  • What is the definition of rest? What are some synonyms?
  • How does rest show up in my hobbies: photography, writing, coloring, card design?
  • How is rest affecting my chronic pain?
  • Has rest helped me to move more slowly?
  • Am I struggling against something? Can I stop and rest?
  • When I have rested, what have I noticed?
  • Does rest help me to let go?
  • How are rest, solitude, and retreat related?
  • What three memories of rest can I recall this week, this month?
  • Have I seen examples of rest in nature? In others? What can I learn from them?
  • How are rest and saying “no” related for me?
  • How are rest and mindfulness related?
  • And, for the sake of this blog, how is rest related to “respect?”

For me, rest has an essential relationship with self-respect.  It gets at a part of my nature that has always been troublesome – my difficulty setting limits.  Limits on my workday’s length and intensity, limits on my care for others, limits on the physical demands I place on my body. Getting older, if you pay attention, can teach you vital lessons about limits.

This year, I hope to practice self-respect by discovering what rest is and incorporating it into my physical, mental, relational, and spiritual life.

Is “one word” calling you?