Sometimes it's just hard for me to relax. Isn't that weird? It's frustrating. I feel like this guy sometimes.
That's some very intense thinking going on right there. If you look closely, really study him, all you see is tension. He's not sitting comfortably. He's not chillaxing there on his plinth. Every muscle is tight. His brow is furrowed. Even the way he's sitting is not how you sit when you're just hanging out. He's twisted so that his right elbow is on his left leg. His center of gravity is off-center, if that makes sense. Rodin made him that way on purpose, I once learned. He's dwelling on something significant, and there's effort in that.
Once, I was getting a massage at one of those fancy-schmancy places, the lady said "You don't relax, do you?" Ouch. No, Helga, I don't. I dwell like Mr Thinker up there, and I get all bent out of shape, literally, because of the things I don't let go of. Most nights, before I can go to sleep, I work hard at relaxing starting at my head and working my way down to my toes. Sometimes I have to do it more than once.
I've started seeking out sources of restfulness. It's funny, but when you're looking for it, you find it. One of my friends on Facebook bakes these lovely cookies as a home business and someone emailed her and said that she must be a patient and loving soul to make such peaceful cookies. Isn't that nice? Peaceful cookies. And they totally are peaceful cookies (I'd post a link, but I think she's taking a break...). I love the idea of seeing a quality of peace in something so ordinary like a cookie.
One night on my way to pick up Boo from daycare, I saw this:
Everybody stopped to look at it. People were pulled over to the side of the road, taking in the wonder of this sunset. Strangers took a moment to look at each other and say, Do you see this? Do you see this amazing thing that's happening in the sky? It's so beautiful! Yes it is.
And it was. It lasted about 10 minutes, and people are still talking about that one night with the amazing sunset a couple of months ago. For an entire city filled with jaded souls like this place often seems to be (have I ever mentioned that I'm in Las Vegas? yeah, born and raised.) we were moved by this moment of unexpected peacefulness.
(As I write this, I'm laughing, reminded of the Simpson's Treehouse of Horror episode where Homer is lured by the smell of Unexplained Bacon. It's kind of the same thing, isn't it? :) //end tangent)
Every night before we shut off the last lights (and before I go through my Relaxation Workout) I go into Boo's room to tuck her in. She usually falls over asleep mid-action, and tucking her in generally involves flipping her over, pulling blankets out from around her legs, unraveling her from her last adventure of the day. I set her to rights, smooth the blankets over her, and then I watch her snuggle into this new space and relax into the coolness of the pillow. I carry that moment with me to bed, and when I feel the other stuff creeping in the next day, I go back to it.
In with the good, out with the bad.