I'm still kind of learning my job and naturally the first few weeks at a school will be a little hectic. This means there is no one to supervise me and sometimes I just make up my own routines as I go along. So as I'm walking around trying to look productive I start to become irritated because I cant find anything to do. Or anything I know how to do.
Well. I can take advantage of this moment to sit and clear my head at my desk, I think. Yes, that's what I'll do. No sooner than I sit down, the Iphone comes out and the blogs come up and next thing I know I am writing a schedule for what I should do when I get home from school to make my time at home as productive as it can possibly be. For some reason, reading about other people being organized motivates me to attempt the same.
In the middle of my self prescribed schedule writing, a co-worker, a teacher's aide, comes bounding up talking about how it is her break time but she can't actually sit down on her break time because then she will be worthless and not want to get up for the rest of the day. Come to think of it, I don't think I have seen this woman in a seated position, other than if shes helping a student, for the past month of working with her. She gets out her cell phone and starts making calls and arranging some side work to do later in the week.
It's not easy to see it in myself, but I feel a quiet question arise when I see it in someone else...
Why is it so hard to take a break to be still?
Later that day, I am walking alone. Down by the river bank there's a warm breeze and a solitude about this place that draws you in. I'm not the only one. There are people, alone, parked on the side watching the water and eating their lunches. People resting on benches gazing across at the percolating city. The gentle waves stretching sideways over the river and ending at the rocky shore separates us from the noise and the traffic.They invite me to come and sit, just for a minute. But "I'm exercising, I don't want my heart rate to go down, I have things I need to do," I argue with myself.
I give in to the pull of the waves and sit on a bench.
Why do people come to this river bank for peace? To find a respite in the busy-ness that is the city? What is it about this place that people find relaxing? Is it the water? The view of the city without actually having to experience it's jarring noise and movement?
Why not rest? Just for a minute. This is where your inspiration dwells. I hear wind chimes in the background. I can be unedited here yet I never give myself a chance. I never stop spinning long enough, never stop wasting my rest and trading it out for lesser things.
I sigh and rise from the bench, I can't sit still any longer.
Then there is this package under my stairs when I get home. I carry it in but I hesitate to tear off its beautiful wrapper. I want to savor it, but for some reason I find myself reluctant to relish in the fact that someone would send me this. She does this every year, my best friend, she pays absurd amounts for luxurious lotions and soaps from this shop in New York City. It's no surprise that she has sent it, but now it hits my heart differently. And as I sit waiting to pull off the pretty bows and take in the aroma of each item, I have this seemingly unrelated thought whisper across my soul: "You don't rest because you don't think you deserve it. Just like you think you don't deserve this gift." And I just sit for a moment more, and maybe a cry a tear or two.
And maybe I don't deserve it, I mean what did I do? I just turned a year older, I didn't really accomplish anything. Yet, that's the very essence of a gift. Something that is unearned and free. But maybe, just maybe, I have bought into the lie of the world that nothing in life is free and you get what you deserve and that I have to do something in order to deserve a gift so lavish.
Most American's work all year with one week vacation and a few days if your lucky for Christmas. I think it's fascinating that the U.S. is the only country that doesn't legally require you to take a vacation. (Do a little research on American's being overworked, there are no shortage of articles and statistics to prove, we are!) The message is: Work hard. And IF there is time time play or relax, then maybe. Is that why it feels like it is such a sin to do nothing or to not be "productive." Personally, our family tries really hard to be aware of the effects of "too much work not enough play," but you can be affected by this mindset whether or not you have a traditional 9-5 job. Even when I stayed home all day, I always struggled not to work or be productive every single second. Mostly because I felt like I had to. I needed to make the most of my time so I might be able to sit down and fall asleep watching tv at the end of the day. Why is it so ingrained into my psyche that it that even when I am intentional about not being too busy that I still find ways to busy myself?
You see we go through these things in our lives and we think we are over them. Things that maybe we let falsely define us, events that are the origins of lies that we live out. Some lies that sound like this: You aren't good enough. You don't have what it takes. You have to earn your worth. Maybe it's been 10 or 20 years and our lives may have changed outwardly so much and we think: there is no way this still effects me. I have moved on, I've worked though it completely, I am a changed individual. But then it surfaces and you can't sit on a park bench or a open a gift from a dear friend. And what do you do when that lie manifests and you are acting it out and you didn't even realize you were until here you are weeping over a box of lotions?
I can't help but think of the woman pouring out her best perfume on the feet Jesus. Everyone around said, "Wait a minute, let's not get too extravagant here. That could be used in a more economical way." But the teacher wasn't concerned with profit or loss, he knew he was worth it and that the real value was in the gesture and in the pouring out of this woman's heart. His identity didn't come from his paycheck or his skill set or his productivity. It came from his Father, from within. He had this way of flipping everyone's view of worth on it's head.
Maybe if we believed we were worth it or that we needed it, the way we view rest would be that it is more of an essential and less of a luxury. And what if we redefined what rest looks like? What if it's not tuning out life by drowning ourselves in entertainment but it's something more. (Confession: I am just as guilty of binge watching Netflix as the next person). What if rest looks more like some thing that fills our soul to the brim and makes us feel whole again? And could time be viewed, not as a dwindling resource to pack in every little task that can fit, but as a gift? Something that is full of joy and is actually meant to be enjoyed. Would that motivate us to jump off the hamster wheel? What if we believed we were worth that.
Truth be told, I initially hated titling this post "Because You're Worth It." A little cliche, maybe, I thought. But have you ever heard the history behind the famous slogan? Lo'real Paris coined it in the 70's when women's rights and feminism was on the rise and it is actually not as shallow as it first appears. So this is about more than hair color and lipstick and even independent women. When I hear, "I'm worth it" I always wince a little because this is a truth that women everywhere struggle with, myself included. But I'm not satisfied excluding this struggle to women alone. I am almost positive this has little to do with gender and more to do with the searching heart of a human being. Most of the time, I think we keep ourselves too busy and distracted to pay attention to matters of the heart. I know I do.
But I'm ok. I really am.
Because at the end of the day, I know who I am. I know I am not defined by anything in my past, or what I do for a living, or what I look like, or what I feel like, or even by the statistics about overworked Americans. And I feel like maybe that is true rest. To know all this and to be at peace with it.
Thanks for listening today,
Jenna
No comments:
Post a Comment