Rest and Heal

Hmm. What on earth do I want to share with the world today?

I’m 54 years old and have lost a fair few friends including a couple more lately, to death, sadly. My health is a bit rubbish at present, and those things are certainly a mortality wake up call. I need to heal and recover from ill health and it’s taking far too long for my liking. I long to be fit and well again, living life to the full, spending time with those I love, having adventures.

Meanwhile, I’ve had the sheer, unadulterated bliss of an actual, bona fide week OFF! It’s taken me ‘til this age to recognise, accept and do this thoroughly weird thing of taking time off, for me. I’ve worked hard over the past few years to develop a pattern of work that properly sustains me; three days of actual client work on a ten weeks on, two weeks off rotation, and this works really well for me. Especially when I add in a retreat just for me in those times! Three days off, two nights to myself, no phone and just myself for company. I need it, it revitalises me for the really very peopley nature of my life.

So yes, have I felt guilt at lazing in bed, being looked after, brought food and drink, just literally physically resting? Of course! Each time I remember jobs awaiting my attention, things to be done, I remind myself good and hard that it is ok, it is allowed, to just simply rest and heal. I give myself full and hearty permission. It is complex though, to do so simply with love and no regrets.

Rest; it’s just so underrated in this current melee of the lives we’re ‘supposed’ to lead. Rest = lazy, indolent, selfish, especially when there are important things to be done, like work, running around after others, etc.

Rest; so precious, so meaningful, so healing on a deep level. My only regret is that my health means I haven’t been able to do so outdoors. It’s very cold and damp out there, both things that my recovering from illness body would not appreciate right now. So it’s been indoors, in a wonderful nest of pillows and duvet, bed rest proper, with a tv and books to entertain me. But gosh how I have missed the healing nurture of nature itself.

My body feels weak and tired, but it doesn’t feel quite as pained or sick now. So I’ll not do guilt, I’ll not allow it to encroach upon the loveliness of a little bit of time taking proper care of me. Fatigue and phantosmia are still irksome, but I still have a couple of days left to continue resting.

And gratitude, profound, deep and eternal gratitude, that my life is such that I’ve loved ones who understand, care, help and support me. That despite working for myself that I’m in a position to do so, take this time off, and the bills still are paid. I’m almost grossly aware of the privilege of that; whilst knowing equally just how hard and long I’ve worked to achieve it.

This past week I should have worked, visited with a loved one, been to an event, and then travelled to Venice for a holiday. I chose the gift to myself of rest and healing instead.

Thank you past me.

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