I took today off work. The rhythm of my year is different than most people’s and this week saw the completion of a cycle that allows me to let go of some stress.

I realized this week that I’ve been holding myself together with caffeine and worry and I’m not sure I remember what it’s like to not feel that way. This is a commentary on me rather than my job or volunteer work because this is just how I handle life. And how I handle things mostly involves abusing my own nervous system.

Today I revisit what feels like a fruitless effort to calm the inflammation in my body and find a better way of living.

Scout, the kind little soul that he is, recognized my exhaustion and stayed close last night. He didn’t wake me when he was hungry this morning and napped next to me while I awoke on my own terms – no alarm and no stress dream jolting me awake. He usually is up before the alarm, banging the bell on his collar against his food dish in case I didn’t know his bowl is empty. He kindly let me sleep this morning and awakening to soft sunlight streaming through the curtains was gentle. He had his head on the pillow next to me and was snoring.

Was it 7 a.m.? Was it noon? I had no idea and didn’t really care.

When your life is dictated by schedules and alarms to keep you on track, it feels like privilege to not know the time of day and to do as you please. Most days I set alarms to keep me on track or to remind me to just stand and move. What a joy to put down your phone and walk away without worry.

So I fed Scout and fluffed the pillows before lying down again. Scout came back after his breakfast and we laid beneath the ceiling fan while I read.

This book has been slow going and I have struggled to get through it this week. The writing is beautiful. The antagonist, a snake handling false prophet who uses his pulpit to warp minds and get his way, hit way too close to home given the state of the world. “A Land More Kind Than Home” by Wiley Cash is southern gothic literature at its best but it was still a rough ride.

Despite that, I was glad to luxuriate in my soft sheets beneath the fan and let the author paint a picture for me. This author hosts a podcast about North Carolina literature that I enjoy. He’s a good host but a great writer who makes you feel like you’re standing right next to his characters in every scene.

It was close to lunch when I turned the last page so I fixed myself a plate and a tall glass of ice water and took a different book to the back porch. It has been hot and humid here this week but that humidity finally broke and the outdoors are pleasant again. There was even a nice breeze and more birds in my yard than I could begin to count.

They were beautifully vocal while I sat quietly, thankful for their song.

I’m writing to you from the porch. The birds are still singing and there’s a slight breeze. The smell of honeysuckle permeates the air. Honeysuckle is invasive and an all around pain to have around but I almost don’t mind when it smells this good.

I have a nice sitting area out here with vintage motel style chairs and an old carpenter’s tool chest for a coffee table. There’s a hammock as well as some junk in the corner that I need to deal with someday. There’s also the table where I sit now. It’s a perfect spot for outdoor meals and for cold drinks on hot days but I rarely have time to dwell here.

The rest of the day stretches out before me. My current state isn’t so pretty: still in pajamas with messy hair and bare feet. I’m tempted to go walk in the grass like this but memories of stepping on a bee when I was about five are keeping me on the porch at the moment.

Wouldn’t soft grass between toes feel good right now?

There’s work to be done here. Projects and cleaning call my name but I will likely ignore them today. They’ve waited this long. Maybe I’ll do something later but at this moment I think I’ll just concentrate on being human.

Humans weren’t designed to work all the time, to rely on caffeine for survival, and to jump at every ping, ding, buzz and ring of the devices that have a hold on our society.

To NOT stay busy all day, standing till I can hard walk or, even worse, sitting till I can hardly stand, is positively un-American.

Why must we always be busy anyway?

To choose un-busy and to resist the allure of tvs and devices is a form of gentle resistance.

What would happen if I spent this entire day reading and listening to birds while sipping cold water? What would happen if I took a nap or an extra long shower in the middle of the day?

What would happen if I just sat in the quiet with nothing but my own thoughts and the gentle rhythm of my breathing for company? My chiropractor tells me I hold my breath. Maybe I need to practice breathing.

What if breathing and rest, movement and quiet, bird song and ideas and good food and cold water are all I really need to soothe my angry body?

Today I have a chance to find out and I’ll try not to blow it. Tomorrow I have a fun day planned and have been looking forward to it. For now, though, maybe I’ll go stand in the grass and see if that helps any. Unless I step on another bee, it probably can’t hurt.