Rest is a Verb

According to the oxford dictionary the word rest is a verb meaning, “to cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength,” or “to be placed or supported so as to stay in a specified position.” The Webster’s dictionary goes on defining the word forever saying it is, “Repose, Sleep; specifically: a bodily state characterized by minimal functional and metabolic activities: freedom from activity or labor: a state of motionlessness or inactivity: the repose of death: a place for resting or lodging: peace of mind or spirit: a rhythmic silence in music: a brief pause in reading: something used for support.” I like the oxford dictionary better. It prattles less or more to the point it is more to the point, which is a wordy way of saying it is conceptual. I’d like to understand the concept of rest. You see, I’m tired, and just gosh awful at resting. It is a thing I over think, and ruin. I think my mind is more like the Webster’s dictionary, categorizing things to death in an attempt at self-defeated, overstated clarity. I get so worked up about resting that I just can’t choose what kind of resting to do. I stess myself out, and that’s a bad job. I’d blame American culture, but it’s just my own neurosis. Oh, I could blame it all on human nature, but I blame American culture and human nature for adding the word ‘twerk’ to the dictionary and that’s a lot of blame.

               No, but resting is just terribly hard to do. I am alive, and I’d like to be about living. My heart palpitates. My blood moves. Air moves through my lungs causing my chest to rise and fall. I feel the air around me moving. I hear the buzz of traffic. The bumps, thuds, clunks, in trinkleing of a woman cleaning in the other room remind me of a thing I should be doing. I promised a friend we would go for a run. I should keep my job. I should set the alarm. I should make the bed, clean the room, and fix the thing in the yard. There is a critter in the attic. There is a phone call to make, and after lunch it is time to plan dinner. A friend of mine is sick. There is a dance tonight, but the laundry is not done. My father says we should go fishing. There is an event down town. I am conscripted to support the cause… and how does one cease from movement?

               The concept of rest evades definition, so that everyone has their own definition for rest, just like everyone has a definition for love, or what it is to be a man. I cannot take rest and boil it down to a clever phrase without cheapening the meaning. What I can do is say that my favorite quotes about rest are the ones that acknowledge the inability to fully rest…completely stop; the ones that accept the slight movement that is inextricable from the stillest living thing. Terisa of Avila said, “Love makes work into rest.” Steven King said, “A change is as good as a rest.” Sri Sri Ravi Shikar said when speaking about the rest and activity, “Finding them in each other - activity in rest, and rest in activity – is the ultimate freedom.” I think I am tired. I think that whatever rest is, I want it. I think there is something that is rest is that goes beyond sitting in a chair or laying in bed and it – whatever it is – must be a gift.

               One more thing… It is funny that rest is a verb. Enter the paradox.