Abundant Rest-2020 review

Abundant: existing or available in large quantities; amply supplied, plentiful; rich, copious

Rest: cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength. allow to be inactive in order to regain strength, health, or energy, be placed or supported so as to stay in a specified position; 

Well, hindsight is—2020…. And this year’s theme, abundant rest- was infused in the last 365 days in ways that I couldn’t imagine a year ago.

Abundant rest looks like balance and feels like hope. It is a quiet confidence. A hard-fought calmness and stillness birthed out of a commitment to observing and honestly looking at myself. It was forged as I no longer ignored or dismissed myself- the things I tried not to think about-and the ones I ruminated on for far too long.  It was cultivated by self-compassion—being okay with being in-process, and humbly admitting where I was. Rest flourished as I let others in- my counselor, my old and new friends, and trusted that God would provide for my needs. It grew; even in a pandemic, in processing complex trauma, in the loss of my grandfather, two uncles, and extended family.

Abundant rest is only possible with honesty. Rest cannot be embraced when you’re running from your past, your emotions, your physical body. Rest is found in the process of knowing and being known. In looking at the painful parts of your history, admitting your hopes for the future, and living in the present. It is sustained by sleep, diet, exercise, and creativity.

This rest is abundant because it is holistic. As I look back, this year started with a reversal for me. In my career I was so mentally and emotionally engaged- working to help others through difficult times, to learn and grow- playing my long-held role as the “helper who is fine”. At the end of 2019 I knew it was me who was definitely NOT fine, needed help, and needed a change. So, January 2^nd, I found myself working in a kitchen, packaging food, and engaging in physical work rather than emotional or mental. It was exhausting in the best way. It was just the job I needed for this year-fast-paced, productive, and meaningful- helping to feed others during a pandemic. I’m grateful that God provided the work I needed, almost literally on my doorstep. I also found myself putting the pen down, and picking up the brush- painting when often I would have written- realizing that talking about your emotions is not the same as processing or feeling them- whether your journaling or chatting with a friend. Feeling emotions is a lot like swimming in the ocean- observing the waves, riding them out, and doing what you need to in order to stay afloat.

Leaving my career was the beginning of taking a step back from obligation-one that spilled over into my relationships as well. Learning to have healthy boundaries, to not ignore my own needs in order to meet the ones around me. It looked like discovering what emotional health really looked like- and working towards that. It grew in vulnerability-admitting my needs, wants, and learning to let others into my pain. It was painfully freeing to see the world continue on even if I wasn’t trying to control everything around me.

Abundant rest was fostered by intentionality- weekly video chats with friends, setting time aside to create, read, walk outside, and to have fun. Discovering what is restful for me- cooking a hearty breakfast, exploring watercolor painting, and learning to see my to-do list as a guideline-not a measuring stick.

Abundant rest looks like bravery- admitting my feelings, asking for help, saying no as confidently as I say yes. It looks like admitting what is difficult, what I like and don’t like, and not taking responsibility for things I cannot control. It grew by courageously voicing my fears, my trauma, my dreams. It takes an honest look at the world because trying to avoid, numb, and downplay reality is too damn exhausting.

And yes, abundant rest looked like stillness, too. Listening to others, observing my physical surroundings-cultivating contemplation, mindfulness, and integration. Taking bubble baths, walks for rest not just for exercise, and creating an environment around my home that was peaceful-candles, blankets, and lighting, rest was so much more than stillness.

With just a few days left in 2020. Im grateful for the hindsight. For the ways rest was abundant this year. For the grace of holistic stillness, of quietude that comes when you stop running from what you fear will overtake you, and find that it is in the rest that you can process and overcome it. So today, I pick up my pen, my paints, and pray with gratitude for the abundant rest of this year.