Craving the Still

A little less than a month ago, I planned for a few hours on a Saturday to sit in a park. The perfect solo date: a blanket, my sketchbook, an iced drink, and myself. I packed my little tote with the mentioned ingredients and walked the 15 minutes in the warm sun. You would think this was the most relaxed I’ve ever been, but I found myself feeling rushed.

This is a pretty common thing with me.

I’ve always been a homebody. I love a good day on the couch. But when this behavior gets in the way of another perfectly relaxing moment, I start to question it. I’ve spent the last however many years of my life completely burnt out which only means I’ve naturally come to crave those still moments.

So instead of continuing at my rushed pace, I slowed down. I became aware and let myself spend three hours on a tie dye blanket in the grass (against my lower back’s desire). I even refused to check the time until I was ready to leave. Time, I’ve come to realize, always feels like an enemy. Judging me for whatever I’m choosing to spend it on. Always running low. Running out.

If I stop seeing time as something to rush against, maybe it can become something that just happens while laying in the grass, while drawing, reading, or spending time with people. Maybe it can just pass and that’s okay.

Cheers to letting go in little ways.

Elizabeth