Crookston Times - Crookston, MN
  • BLOG: Waltzing around it

  • Sometimes you can't escape the fact that you need a nap.
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  • My husband told me I needed a nap. Or at least to rest. After very little that counted as sleep the night before and a morning at the zoo (and before we would [be taken] out to the ballgame), we were at the mall. The Mall—the big one. With four stories of shopping. And food. And the most extravagant, decadent cupcake I’ve ever eaten. (So good that it warranted a sentence fragment all its own.)
    I told him I didn’t want to rest, that I’d miss this.
    Long story short, I didn’t miss that this, but I did wind up missing a few more of this-and-that’s over the next two days.
    Perhaps you, like I, lose count and then find it necessary to mark time for a while before racing to catch up. I sense that the scurrying to latch on after missing a few beats is really unnecessary, driven by some ill-placed guilt: I shouldn’t have backed off, shouldn’t have slowed down.
    If only we could welcome those times of dormancy as well as our times of action—for both are states of potential.
    Within each life—whether flora or fauna—resides an inclination to live exactly as intended. Let’s face it: pines and pomegranates, puppies and porcupines don’t seem to have a choice; they bloom and find repose in season and play and plop down for a nap whenever and wherever.
    We human beings, on the other hand—oh, the things we do to ourselves. We’re the ones who get to choose. And strange, isn’t it? That in all of creation, we who are gifted with intellect, with the ability to weigh the benefits of a certain action against that of another, to predict with some accuracy the outcome of our behavior—we’re the ones who can’t seem to get it. For rather than allowing life to unfold, we orchestrate. We manipulate: this goes here and that goes there, not today but maybe tomorrow, I can or I can’t, not now but maybe later. And then we wonder why there’s discord.
    I’ve written before about arranging—and the fact that I’m not always a planner. But, indeed, I am a recovering conductor, and there are times I still find myself with that baton in hand waiting to cue the next entrance.
    It may be safe to say that we long to experience an existence beyond description, to somehow capture it all. We don’t want to miss anything. Without realizing it, ignoring the signs for stillness, we insert a wrong note—and the whole chord goes sour.
    Page 2 of 2 - The composition of our years is dependent upon our having been who we are—failures and successes, dreamers and those disappointed, competitors and those who defer, power-shoppers and snoozers.
    We grow to realize our song can consist of notes and rests! When we follow our gut, take a chance, hear what’s beating inside of us—when we listen to each day’s appeal, to our everyday’s truth: we might realize that it’s okay to need a nap.
    Before the band plays on.
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