I am also reminded of a quote by Robert Fulghum, author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten:
"Peace is not something you wish for; It's something you make, Something you do, Something you are, And something you give away."
As the hours of the past week rolled to a close and Shabbat crept up around the corner, I challenged myself to answer this question: If this act of creating, acting, being and giving Peace was meant to leave me feeling satiated and enveloped in the abundance of all things harmonious, why do I feel so tired and drained?
Most Fridays, I pride myself on going into Shabbat with a sense of accomplishment--that after a week of hustle and bustle, whatever is done is done, whatever is not shall wait. Shabbat is coming and in it, the gift of an Island in Time. A full 25 hours of intentional rest and reflection. This week, I felt rushed and utterly exhausted. I felt lethargic and yet, overwhelmed by that list of All Things Unaccomplished. I canceled my plans for Shabbat and decided to stay at home. However, as I sat in my home through the hours, despite the true intent to be restful and to recuperate, I felt an utter sense of unrest.
I had engaged in a brief conversation about Shalom Bayit with a friend who was seemingly feeling that same sense of unrest in her own home. Without missing a beat, I encouraged her to allow that peace to begin within her before she even needed to consider external factors. Great advice. Now to take a dose of my own healing medicine!
So, as the hours of Shabbat came to a close, I indulged in the feelings of disappointment in not having accomplished everything I wanted to. I allowed myself to wallow in feelings of disappointment in myself. I even gave in to the exhaustion that kept me in bed most of the day. However, I had a clear understanding that this self-indulgent wallowing would be done come Sunday morning.
And it is. It is a new week. I am reveling in the beauty of a soft rain tapping at my windows. I am slowly sipping at my cup of coffee. I am looking at the same piles of tasks yet to be completed around my house, but rather than feeling disappointment, frustration, or anxiety about it, I am opening my hands to the understanding that Shalom Bayit is not created merely through having a tidy home, or through pleasing and appeasing each and every other person outside of ourselves. It is created through having compassion for oneself; the same compassion we extend to those around us. If I can forgive others their shortcomings, if I can accept those things in life which are unpredictable, uncontrollable, or unpleasant, can't I also accept those factors in myself? Can I allow myself to give the best I can in a given moment, even when that is not perfection?
Shalom Bayit is not a means to an end, or a final product. It is a means to daily existence and a process. There will be tasks that go unaccomplished at the end of a day, a week, a month, even a year. There will be clutter and messes and stacks of dirty dishes. There will be lists of things to do but times at which my body's need to rest will inevitably come first. The sun will set and rise again. It will do so whether or not I am "ready" and in this lies the beauty of knowing I can try again. And try again I will! I will do so with purpose, determination and (hopefully) grace. However, I will also do so with humor, compassion and forgiveness for myself, for Shalom Bayit truly begins within the sanctity of our own Home, of our own Self.
As the hours of the past week rolled to a close and Shabbat crept up around the corner, I challenged myself to answer this question: If this act of creating, acting, being and giving Peace was meant to leave me feeling satiated and enveloped in the abundance of all things harmonious, why do I feel so tired and drained?
Most Fridays, I pride myself on going into Shabbat with a sense of accomplishment--that after a week of hustle and bustle, whatever is done is done, whatever is not shall wait. Shabbat is coming and in it, the gift of an Island in Time. A full 25 hours of intentional rest and reflection. This week, I felt rushed and utterly exhausted. I felt lethargic and yet, overwhelmed by that list of All Things Unaccomplished. I canceled my plans for Shabbat and decided to stay at home. However, as I sat in my home through the hours, despite the true intent to be restful and to recuperate, I felt an utter sense of unrest.
I had engaged in a brief conversation about Shalom Bayit with a friend who was seemingly feeling that same sense of unrest in her own home. Without missing a beat, I encouraged her to allow that peace to begin within her before she even needed to consider external factors. Great advice. Now to take a dose of my own healing medicine!
So, as the hours of Shabbat came to a close, I indulged in the feelings of disappointment in not having accomplished everything I wanted to. I allowed myself to wallow in feelings of disappointment in myself. I even gave in to the exhaustion that kept me in bed most of the day. However, I had a clear understanding that this self-indulgent wallowing would be done come Sunday morning.
And it is. It is a new week. I am reveling in the beauty of a soft rain tapping at my windows. I am slowly sipping at my cup of coffee. I am looking at the same piles of tasks yet to be completed around my house, but rather than feeling disappointment, frustration, or anxiety about it, I am opening my hands to the understanding that Shalom Bayit is not created merely through having a tidy home, or through pleasing and appeasing each and every other person outside of ourselves. It is created through having compassion for oneself; the same compassion we extend to those around us. If I can forgive others their shortcomings, if I can accept those things in life which are unpredictable, uncontrollable, or unpleasant, can't I also accept those factors in myself? Can I allow myself to give the best I can in a given moment, even when that is not perfection?
Shalom Bayit is not a means to an end, or a final product. It is a means to daily existence and a process. There will be tasks that go unaccomplished at the end of a day, a week, a month, even a year. There will be clutter and messes and stacks of dirty dishes. There will be lists of things to do but times at which my body's need to rest will inevitably come first. The sun will set and rise again. It will do so whether or not I am "ready" and in this lies the beauty of knowing I can try again. And try again I will! I will do so with purpose, determination and (hopefully) grace. However, I will also do so with humor, compassion and forgiveness for myself, for Shalom Bayit truly begins within the sanctity of our own Home, of our own Self.
No comments:
Post a Comment