She speaks slowly
with a voice like moss,
soft, deep and damp.
If you’re not listening carefully
you might just miss it,
rising out from the earth
like vapour,
gently tugging at your ankles.
“Rest” she says,
“Deeper. Rest as deep as I am.
You are moving too fast.
Become soil,
become the slow-growing tree.
Send your roots deep
into the rich darkness
where they can truly be nourished.
Winter is sanctuary
and you are weary.
Come drink of my stillness
and dream in the dark earth.”
by Emily Pearce
I didn’t used to value rest all that much, if anything it seemed like an annoying necessity to keep going. If you google ‘human being, human doing’, you’ll find an endless list of articles, books, practices, and it looks to me like most are urging us to value the being more. Easier said than done, judging by all that output about it!
I recently came across a quote from Nicola Jane Hobbs, who has just written a book on the psychology of rest, which says
Instead of asking, ‘Have I worked hard enough to deserve to rest?’, I’ve started asking, ‘Have I rested enough to do my most loving, meaningful work?’.
It’s a privilege, of course, to be able to ask this question, and there may be many situations and jobs where that question might come across as a painful joke. But I also believe that there are many for whom valuing output and doing more has become an unquestioned habitual pattern, and where asking the ‘have I rested enough’ question could land as a wise wakeup call.
This poem by Emily Pearce (who I’ve not been able to find online to give a credit to) speaks of the deep rest that winter invites. Whether it’s my age and stage or practice finally sinking in or maybe my surroundings, I’m feeling it now… How precious to be able to pause and rest wholeheartedly, even if only in brief windows of time. Very worth practising, at least!
PS If you want to explore resting, why it may not be straightforward and how to access it more, our Level 1 course ‘being present’ would be a good place to start!
