I’ve been thinking about the concept of the sabbath. The day of rest. I mean a true day of rest, in which we live outside our hectic notions of time. No errand running, no catch-up work, no nothing. Just relaxation, friends, family, eating (of course!), and your church of choice, whether that’s a cathedral or a forest.
If I understand the traditional intent, we’d devote our sabbath days to our spiritual selves. But how to take ourselves out of the daily grind for one day? Each week, we’d have to plan for our personal sabbaths as if going on a one-day vacation from our lives. We’d have to say “no.” We’d try to avoid the easy time-wasters and brain-pacifiers: television, Internet, email, and maybe even novels. (Oh–the last one would be my downfall in a restless moment!)
I’d probably nap during the afternoon and call this a form of contemplation. For reflection time, I could journal. I’d walk as a form of meditation.
What about fiction writing? For the longest time, I thought of fiction as my religion. It was the way I connected to my core self and to the bigger universal dealio, whatever that may be, because I sure as heck don’t know. Maybe without knowing it, I’ve been looking for this dealio through my fiction.
All I know is that when I started taking my fiction seriously, I stopped seeking a spiritual path in the more traditional sense.
I seem to be in seeker mode again though. I wonder what this means for my fiction…
Popped in on Struggling Writer just now, and he’s on the same roll as I am today: more weekend, please!
Days like today I wonder if the various religious doctrines had it right when they called for a “day of rest” (which was meant to be a day of devotion, but…you know…). Days like today, I’m resting in response to an excellent writing week followed by a people-oriented, party-oriented weekend.
Maybe a little too social a weekend after too good a writing week for this introvert? As if there’s such a thing as “too” good a writing week, but other writers may understand the special brand of brain-tired that results from a week of great output. Basically, it comes down to this: I didn’t have time to refresh (or “reboot” as BigD likes to say) my brain after last week’s wordsmithing.
Honestly, I need my downtime in a big way. And, blasphemy of blasphemies: I didn’t have time to read! That’s the most telling fact of all about my weekend.
I need one day in which I don’t go to the computer immediately, in which I sip my first java at midday, in which I fool around with no set agenda, in which I nap if that should so happen while I’m reading. In other words, a mental-health day.
Not that I don’t feel a smidgen guilty as I write this instead of start the next chapter. However, I know that I can make up today’s imagined pages over the rest of the week.
What have I accomplished today? Leisurely dog-walk, decent breakfast, a little blog-browsing and commenting…uhm…this post…uhm…