earning the beat

After two busier-than-usual-back-to-back days, today is a day of resting for me. What's immediately there for me?
productivity=worth
this day=waste
I wish I could see what goes on unseen, both in my body and in my soul when I slow down to breathe, to replenish. I kind of got on a little productivity "high" (I swear it's a major adrenaline surge . . . oh wait, maybe that was the caffeine!) and I'm trying to remember again how to be, how to let my mind wander, how to leave the dishes for a few more hours. I wonder if it will ever become natural for me to rest, or if I will struggle with this even in my old age. It is certainly easier when I bump up against my physical restrictions. Then the only challenge is not viewing the restrictions as the enemy.

It is true that this moment--my heart beating, lungs steadily breathing--is a gift, an act of pure grace, and nothing that I earned with all my hard work/impeccable scheduling/good cooking. Such is my life and my loved ones and I hardly ever receive them as such. I'm nose down, grinding it out as though our beating hearts depended on it. How strange.