I grew up in Northern Ireland in the 70’s in a mainly Protestant town where Sunday, the day of rest, was strictly observed. Everything (and I mean everything!) was closed. Think Footloose with Ian Paisley playing the minister!🕺🏻😳
As happens, my journey to uncover, and get comfortable with, my own spirituality took a while.
I find myself full circle, championing a day of rest: time to muse, to dream, to reset.
Despite the current season, Mary Oliver’s poem, The Summer Day, springs to mind,
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Enjoy your rest time, dear friend, however that looks for you.
Let’s flourish together!