Here I am reading.
Here I am napping.
Here I am writing.
Here I am being.
Bruce and I spent a couple days at Grandview Lodge near Brainerd, Minnesota, recently. Our simple, cozy cabin right on the shore of frozen, snow-covered Gull Lake offered just the kind of quiet we enjoy. Our agenda was simple: read, nap, nap, read, and do it all over again. Oh, and eat. We bundled up -- long underwear, earmuffs, hat, scarf, and our heaviest jackets -- to head to the lodge at meal time. Good hearty breakfasts and leisurely dinners.
I brought with me some writing to revise, a chapter in my spiritual memoir that felt unwieldy. A change of pace and scene was just what I needed, and I came home with a new chapter now "at rest."
How good it was to let each day unfold. I gazed out our big picture windows taking in the expanse of white, seeing only a few icehouses and hearing only an occasional snowmobile. The day we arrived it snowed, gifting us with a couple inches of fresh snow, whiter than white against the clear blue sky. A postcard of winter.
Sometimes a time out restores energy. Sometimes a time out clears the space of whatever is muddling your heart or mind. Sometimes a time out reminds us of what is most important to us. Sometimes a time out offers inspiration and becomes a source of new creativity.
Sometimes a time out is preparation for whatever is next.
Sometimes a time out is simply a time to be, to nap, to read, to enjoy the ease of companionship.
Sometimes we don't know how important a time out is until we return.
I hope you will pay attention to messages from your body, mind, soul, that may be whispering (or even shouting), I need a time out, and then I hope you will give that gift to yourself, even if all you can do is stop and close your eyes and take deep calming breaths, finding your own rhythm. Sometimes that is all we need.
What do you do when you need a time out? I would love to know.