Surrender…
Deep in the dark of winter a persistent spirit calls me to rest. Weariness takes hold like a longing for the embrace of heavy covers over my body and for feather-light closed lids over my eyes. The sweet ease of not looking, not scanning or focusing or perceiving into things, feels like floating in a private black lagoon. There’s a serenity in surrender. The surrender to rest does not bend the spine in a submissive posture like the surrender of defeat. Surrendering to rest is a release, an opening up. It’s a spacious passivity. On a midwinter night the dark becomes layered. The dark of night lies behind drawn curtains that darken the room. The dark of the room lies behind shut eyelids that plunge me further into darkness. I find peace there. It’s a warm dark, a surrounding all encompassing field of blackened night. Nothing to see, nothing to do, nothing to be. I am only at odds with it when I seek or impose myself upon it – when I conjure images or words, when I play scripts and scenes back from memory, or project myself into the future, when I attempt to believe I can predict from the unknown, then the black night puts me ill at ease. This is the mistake, to see into the dark. Instead be the dark. Peace is often mistaken for the opposite of negative emotions, but peace is not happiness or levity or joy. Peace is an absence of contrast, and the dark is perhaps the best embodiment of this experience. No contrast, no shades of grey, no opposing image or perspective, just the ease of nothing. Just rest.
Release…
In abdominal breathing practices instructions and guides direct the release of stomach muscles as one inhales and exhales into the expanse of the abdominal region. This feeling of effortless expansive breath like ocean waves washing in and pulling out from their own perpetual motion of lunar and tidal forces, this ocean feeling of being alive without form or identity is being at rest.
Long winter’s nap…
The Christmas story ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas puts me in mind of quiet, long, and still winter’s rest. Of course, in the story the beautiful night of Christmas Eve sleep is interrupted by the clickety clackety clatter of Santa and his reindeer, but in the set up to the story you can feel the pre-bed anticipation of a good night’s rest. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day can bring forth qualities of restfulness. There’s a comfort in being safe at home, perhaps with loved ones or cozy curled up sleeping pets. The busy world of the Christmas season suddenly slows down after everyone has reached their respective destinations. The roads hush from hectic traffic, and there aren’t as many places to be for a brief time. There’s space to breathe. And with the excitement of Christmas Day ahead, I remember a time when I wanted to get to sleep so badly on Christmas Eve so that tomorrow, Christmas, would come with all it’s magic, surprise, and charm.
Silent night…
The words of the song silent night perhaps hold the key to one of the most unsung gifts of midwinter – simply rest. “Silent night…all is calm, all is bright…sleep in heavenly peace.” Reading the words, thinking of the tune, makes me yawn and wish for my pillow. And in the crazy, fast paced, demanding, ever-changing world, there’s nothing I wish for more for everyone than a few nights of quiet, dark, peaceful Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
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