The Joy of Idleness

 The run-up to the Unitarian GA meetings, which took place between 3rd and 6th April, was a very busy time for me. Since I came home, just over a week ago, I have been rediscovering the joy of (occasional) idleness. So I was amused to read this week's quotation, by the first century Roman statesman, scholar and philosopher, Cicero: "There is no-one who cannot indulge in doing nothing for once."

I spent a very enjoyable Easter Weekend in the company of my immediate family - my daughter came to visit us on Maundy Thursday and stayed for most of Good Friday, during which we went for a gorgeous walk in Salcey Forest in the Spring sunshine; we enjoyed the company of my son, his partner and her son on Easter Sunday, when we went over to their house for a delicious lunch; and Maz and I went to see the film Dance Crazy on Easter Monday evening. Which was a real blast from the past for both of us, being made up mainly of footage from gigs by live Two Tone bands such as The Selecter, The Specials, The Beat, The Bodysnatchers, Madness, and Bad Manners. Which were all the rage when he and I first became an item. All in all, the long weekend was a lovely antidote to the busyness of the previous weeks.

So I was able to return to work, refreshed, on Tuesday, and am thoroughly enjoying the process of regrounding myself in my calling as District Minister. 

Yet, looking at Cicero's words again, I see that even during the long weekend, when I was resting from work, I was not simply "doing nothing". I much prefer active leisure, rather than loafing around. Even in the evenings, when I'm relaxing in front of the tv, I generally have either some crochet or cross-stitch on the go. In fact, I find Doing Nothing really hard.

Yet I know it is good for me - to spend time each day in stillness and silence, open to the presence of the Spirit around and within me. So each morning I do a short sit on my meditation bench, in front of the shrine in my bedroom, to set me up for the day. It is the only time I can tolerate actually doing *nothing*, as opposed to actively enjoying my leisure time. Doing the things I love nourishes my soul. 

Rejoice!

This week's quotation, from Russian author, Leo Tolstoy, "Rejoice in the sky, the sun, the stars, the grass and trees, the animals and the people," really spoke to me.

Because I love walking outside in nature, at any time of day, whatever the weather (although sunshine is best!). It has been one of the great consolations in my life since lockdown started - to be able to go for a daily walk, either round the village, round the fields that surround the village, or in the Forest. It is a constant joy to watch the cycle of the year unfolding in front of my eyes, and to marvel both in the perennial familiarity of snowdrops in February and daffodils in March, and yet to also be filled with wonder that I have never before seen these snowdrops, these daffodils. And in the endlessly changeful beauty of the trees and sky. And so I rejoice.

I also rejoice in the presence of my beautiful cat, Luna, even if she wants to sit on my knee at the most awkward time (such as when I'm trying to record my weekly service, or when I'm trying to crochet). She is warm and friendly and loving. And so I rejoice.

I rejoice in the daily presence of my husband and son, and in the more distant, but regular, connection (because she is in Kilnhurst) with my daughter. This evening, we are getting together on Zoom to do a family quiz. Each person offers two rounds, with ten questions in each round... it is fun and often hilarious. This month, I'm doing a round on Harry Potter and an online version of Kim's Game. Simple pleasures, enjoyed with my family And so I rejoice.

What do you rejoice in?