rest and play with intention
Celebrating another birthday
After work John rests and plays with a game of Space Invaders at Dave & Buster's.
Finding ways to rest creatively has become my heart song. I've been on the path of rest that offers an unharried and hurried ebb and flow to my lifestyle. I'm not referring to an extended vacation or sleeping late (although I welcome those moments, knowing sleep is not always restful) but entering into rest that penetrates the spiritual. Sandra Dalton-Smith, MD, writes in her book Sacred Rest that "rest speaks peace into the daily storms your mind, body, and spirit encounter. Rest is what makes sleep sweet."
The first step on my path of rest was living in the image of God's rest—a moment to stop and admire the beauty, the light, and the creation. The Genesis narrative opens with God creating something out of nothingness. God separates and identifies day from night and the sky from the sea. Then God produces plants and trees, seasonal signs, markers for days and years, living creatures that swim in the waters, soar through the sky, and creep along the earth, and humans in God's image. "When God finished the work that he had done, he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done in creation" (Genesis 2:2-3).
I don't know about you, dear reader, but my work week can become busy producing, creating, and making things happen or not. From prepping meals, doing laundry, answering emails, planning and attending meetings, writing and reading, caring for my family, etc., etc. And when the morning turns to night, if I'm not rested, I'm not living in the image of God because I'm too exhausted to see the good work that has been created. My heart song of rest has become muted, and I'm not "living my purpose more freely and expansively."
“Creative rest is not about putting a demand on your creative ability; that’s not rest, that’s work. … Creative rest lets you focus on your basic need to wonder.”
So, Play has become the way I rest creatively. Dalton-Smith clarifies, "Creative rest is not about putting a demand on your creative ability; that's not rest, that's work. … Creative rest lets you focus on your basic need to wonder." To wonder is to marvel and be filled with surprise, amazement, and awe, like the second week of September when I intentionally planned a modest weekend of Play and rest to celebrate the anniversary of my husband, John's birthdate.
I don't associate my personality with Play; that may be why Play has become intentional. In the blog post "Giving Thanks for Pieces of Me," I wrote that Play requires us to do something enjoyable or amusing, such as an exercise or activity. Play is not being or taking ourselves so seriously. Play is to move freely. Play is purpose. In a New York Times article, Kristin Wong writes, "Play can feel silly, unproductive and time-consuming. And that's precisely the point." Wong quotes Meredith Sinclair, author of Well Played: The Ultimate Guide to Awakening Your Family's Playful Spirit, who explains, "As we get older, our egos grow. We become more self-conscious." And this is "why we should make more time for [play]."
When Matthew Lyda, co-founder of Recover the Wild, asked me, "How do I play?" Caught off guard, I wasn't sure how to answer. I'm not a gamer. I'm not involved in a sports league. I do not play paintball in the woods. As a solopreneur, there are no team-building exercises. I show up every evening to play Words with Friends on my phone. It keeps me sharp but doesn't sharpen my social well-being.
Matthew recommended therapist Lindsay Braman's Play Style quiz to discover my play personality. My play personality is Explorer. I want to know and understand. As an Explorer, it orientates me to the world as a learner—no wonder I spend my leisure time reading non-fiction, attending conferences, and trying to carve space for a labyrinth in the woods in our backyard. I'm also a kinesthetic player, playing through body movement. Pilates is my jam. I can't wait to find a Zumba class again, and now I understand my need to hike through the woods in my backyard.
As a kinesthetic player, a few rounds of air hockey with my husband at Dave and Buster's set his birthday weekend in Play. Pacman for two, Skee Ball, virtual bowling, race car driving, and shooting basketball hoops. The evening was silly, without taking ourselves so seriously when one of us outscored the other.
John strikes a pose.
Resting well after a stroll around the island. No clock. No deadline.
Saturday morning, we took the ferry to Block Island, Rhode Island. We explored, ate, and walked. We played, not competitively, for points or prize coupons but as a contemplative practice. We entered Gallery Padien, a space that invited us to be present with ourselves, the moment we were in, and with other people.
John and I became curious and open about the sculptures and oil on canvas paintings. William Paiden, gallery owner and painter, invited us to touch Sean Hartnett's sculptures. Abstract marble pieces—carved, polished, and smoothed—were for the viewer to interpret. We gazed, touched, imagined, and contemplated. I contemplated with my heart, John with his head. Together, the spiritual part of us—where our mind, body, and spirit intersect, we lingered in the unknowing, awed, and amazed by the craft and the creation of Hartnett's polished rocks.
I asked William about his process. He meanders alone on the island, pulls out a sketch pad to draw or scribble notes, returns to his studio, and sits before a blank canvas. He has two or three. William said, "A blank white canvas is intimidating, so I paint over it before I begin painting." Sometimes, before the painting begins, William meditates after covering the blank slate. When inspiration arises, the painting speaks to him, and he enters in and paints—sometimes hours until it's done.
"It's exhausting," he said.
"You need a nap when it's over," I said.
"A Guinness," he said and smiled.
William's oil and canvas are "a layered application with slashing strokes that mimic the grace of nature in motion." His art "balances relationships of light, color, and space."
With the intention and attention to rest and play, play and rest, Play became a contemplative practice practiced with awareness and presence of nurturing God's gift of rest and being in the image of God's rest. Finding ways to rest creatively is resting in unhurried and unharried sacred hours.
