Introducing: Slow-down Sundays
“In a world of doing, going, and producing, we have no use for a gift that invites us to stop. But that is the original gift: a gift of rest.”
A. J. Swoboda, Subversive Sabbath
We all need rest.
Overstimulated, overworked and constantly drained. Frazzled. It’s hard to find pockets of rest, let alone a full day in our schedules.
(Even if you’re not religious, try to stay with me here)
In the Christian faith, God is known to rest on the seventh day, after he spent six days creating the world. That day is traditionally known as a Sabbath, or Shabbat (in Hebrew), and is to be kept “holy” or “set apart” from the other days as a day for rest and worship.
To keep the Sabbath, then, is to try to uphold to this idea of rest and worship. But as Jesus famously said, “the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” This day of rest is to keep us. It even extends to all of Creation—the land, the animals, the marginalised, society and the economy… the list goes on.
Rest is meant to be a rhythm we and the world live by.
We all understand that when something is overworked, it doesn’t run well.
When we’re overworked, we burn out. It takes a toll on our mental health, overall well-being, our work, and our relationships.
When the land is overworked and unable to rest, it goes through its own version of burn-out too. It doesn’t yield crops or plants as well as it once did.
Rest is something that we know all living beings need, but find hard to fully engage in.
Then again, what is true rest or real rest?
Does it mean a day where I am free to binge on Netflix and Youtube in the comforts of my bed, under the covers, ordering all my food in and napping occasionally? I usually picture that to be my ideal day of rest, or, in Singlish, a ‘nua’ day.
When I actually do the above (which I have, many times over), I notice I don’t feel rested. My soul, instead of being filled up, remains empty and drained, yet again.
I’ve begun to rediscover the beauty of slowing down.
Intellectually I knew resting is something restorative to my body and soul, yet I hardly live out what I think is important. Towards the end of 2020, I started to take a little step towards being intentional in this area. The first thing I did: delete Instagram off my phone on Saturday night and reinstalling it on Monday morning.
With that came many tiny lessons in being human again.
Being present to what’s before me, learning how to embrace the company of friends and family, letting go of agendas and KPIs, being comfortable in not needing to prove myself or my worth, or seek the attention and affirmation of influence, learning how to play, laugh, enjoy, and luxuriate in time passing in quiet moments...
These moments are precious, which is why I’m making the choice to remember them. Not rushing to share immediately, but to take my time in pulling together these moments through visuals and words to ‘journal’ the gift of rest in a particular week.
Here’s my journey.
14 March 2021, a slow-down Sunday documented
In the bus,
We were on the way for church service. I was listening to The Sustainable Minimalist podcast, while Jon read Crime & Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
after a much-needed afternoon nap
I was having a bad headache, probably from not sleeping well the previous night. I made some decaf coffee for myself and read some of my Bible Study Fellowship notes.
We had friends over
From the late afternoon, we spent time eating home-baked banana bread and blueberry muffins, bonding over board games, a McGriddles dinner, and pear + apple ciders and wine and ice cream.