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torri blue's avatar

I was raised a pastor's daughter at an American megachurch where the unspoken (okay, occasionally spoken) rule was, "I'll rest when I'm dead." I became Jewish later in life. The first big draw to Judaism, for me, was the practice of Shabbat. Lighting candles and turning off all those unnecessary noises and doings. We aren't too particular about the specifics, but we put our phones away. I remember our first night observing, my wife and our then-roommate were being so funny, and I couldn't document it or share it. I had this overwhelming sense of awe and gratitude that it was a moment that existed just for me. How rare that is these days!

Ever since then, I've been seeking corners for rest wherever I can find them - not just physically, but also from the straining of daily life. The constant need to resist, to fight for my basic rights, the demands from my peers to always do more and say more... I am tired in my own body most days, no matter how still I sit. So rest feels different lately. Finding moments for peace has become one of my basic, everyday priorities. And on long, exhausting weeks, there's always Shabbat :)

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Elissa Altman's avatar

I love this post so much; thank you for writing it. Like you, I grew up believing that rest = indolence. When you say "What am I, if I’m not doing? What if I can never get started again?" that is it --- this drives my every fear surrounding rest. Thank you for giving words to it. xE

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