2020 Sunday Stories (13)

I had a moment of rest yesterday. More than a moment. Hours. Hours of rest. During this worldwide forced isolation we are all living in right now, I have still been waking up around 6am. I pray and have tea. Sometimes I eat and sit for a minute then start working. I paint or prepare for class or write or promote my products for online sale. Work. Whatever that is for the day.

Yesterday I watched the hands of the clock go round and round. 7, 8, 10, 10:30. I got up some time around noon, which is not like me. While my body felt rested, I still felt uneasy. I felt guilty. I felt like I was doing something wrong. Like I didn't deserve that good rest. I often feel like this if I am not working in some way every hour. I don't remember not feeling this way.

Growing up I don't remember days when we just chilled around the house. We were cleaning or doing homework. We were reading or preparing for church. We were always doing something. At least that how I remember growing up. School was no different. There was a time to study. There was a time to eat. A time to play. There was no time to just...be. Just chill. Just zone out. Then I grew up and stated working and still nothing was different. My first job was at McDonald's. I was a cashier and there was never always a customer to wait on or a counter to clean or a floor to sweep. There was always something to do. Even if we had to make it up. Yesterday I was present to how uncomfortable I was just lying in bed. All after 10 then 11 then noon.

It should not have taken the world shutting down for me to be okay being still. But it did. My son and I spent many months last year living in hotels / motels where we had to pay rent everyday before 11am. Really before 10:30 if we didn't want that call to the room or knock on the door. Thankfully we got a place in December. In my mind, I was going to spend at least a week resting from all the stress from the months before but did I? Absolutely not. I went into overdrive with work because I was afraid of being homeless again. I said yes to all of my clients every chance I could. Took gigs at almost whatever pay. I was literally working around the clock. I did that through December and most of January. Even when I slowed down a bit I was still working everyday. Because rest is for the wicked or idle hands and devil's playground? I don't know.

After I shook off the ridiculous guilt of being a fifty year old woman paying her own rent sleeping until noon I had a good laugh. At myself. Like, sis, you can do this. You can chill. You ain't gotta be busy every single minute. Rent good right now. Food stocked. You okay. I know I'm not the only one. This post is all of us. All of us busy bodies who feel a way when we are not producing every hour. This is for us. It's okay to be well and doing nothing. Doesn't that sound like a crazy thing to have to give yourself permission for? It does to me. It did. It did sound crazy. But not anymore.