The Art of Stopping

Five weeks ago I came down with a respiratory infection and laryngitis. After the  initial illness made  me retreat to my bed for two days, I’d feel better, than wham, I’d be  back in bed, my throat sore, the  rest of me achy and drained. For three days I couldn’t  speak. The enforced silence exaggerated my  slow and cautious approach to each day.  I started laying down in the afternoon, something I don’t normally do. Sometimes I’d  even sleep a bit. The piles and the to-do list grew a little every day, yet I recognized a  small voice from those silent days.  ”It will all get done.  Take care of yourself. It’s all  you can do now, and that is okay.”

It’s been a week now since the symptoms left, and my energy is coming back. The piles and to-do lists are dwindling. 

And I’ve become accustomed to the slower pace. The afternoon rests. Just sitting, and stopping the ‘doing’ and letting my busy mind empty itself. Listening to the wind, or whatever music is drifting over the neighborhood, or to nothing at all. 

Today, bills were paid, errands finished, many details taken care of. Late this afternoon inspiration came visiting while I sat, empty. Suddenly I was full of creative thoughts and words for a writing project that had stalled. I wrote it all down, slowly, ecstatic with the breakthroughs that had come, unbidden. It was a perfect addition to a productive day, a good day, a slow and amazingly full day.