School has started, and the summertime schedule has changed back to a school year routine.
I even went so far as to get my 2020 calendar so I can start dropping in dates I know will be coming up in the new year.
I wrote down the January and spring terms for the homeschool education co-op I organize, then I added in the late winter ice show at the rink. There are several high school graduations this year — all at different schools — plus spring play dates. We haven’t even really “done” anything yet, and there are already plenty of things to mark on the calendar.
Then I looked down at my current calendar and saw Labor Day coming up on Monday for those of us in the US and Canada. For me, Labor Day is the most ironic of holidays, and I always get a chuckle because we celebrate labor by getting a day off work.
Sometimes I think work is the easy part. Put your head down, don’t stop to think, and just keep work, work, working. The stopping work is tricky when the time is packed with All. The. Things.
A day off work-work is really just a day of other-work. The day feels basically the same except for the fact there’s different stuff filling the hours of the day. Mow the lawn, run errands and go shopping, watch a movie, clean the house, make sure the laundry is done, get groceries, meet up with friends or family.
But the other day, I saw a message from a friend who sent a note to a bunch of us: “Allow yourself time to rest today….. You have my permission.”
Permission? Hmmm….
I remember the last time I had permission to rest – years ago while I recovered from surgery. My doctor made me pinky promise with her that I’d do NOTHING but sit on the couch and binge watch Netflix or do wool felt applique projects for at least a week after surgery. She said it would make all the difference in the world with my long-term recovery time, and after that first week, I was supposed to take the next five weeks to continue resting and healing.
So, I did what I was told. I found Emergency! on Netflix and watched every single episode that first week – somehow it seemed appropriate as I was laid up. And I stitched a bunch of wool felt applique Christmas ornaments to cover a tree.
Turns out my doctor knew what she was talking about, and six weeks out from my surgery, when it was time to resume my regular work schedule, I felt better than I had in years. I was…rested.
So this Labor Day weekend, embrace the irony and allow yourself time to rest this weekend. You have my permission.
Better yet, will you pinky promise me?