On Wednesday Evening, I Took Out the Winter Duvet

I woke up once last night because I was cold. I'd been getting by with a blanket layered over my summer duvet, but now my toes were freezing and it wasn't going to work anymore. So today, the moment I got home, I ate a quick dinner and took the winter duvet down from the top shelf of the wardrobe first thing. When I opened the wardrobe, the smell of cloth folded away for a long time came out first. It was on the top shelf, so I had to stand on tiptoe to just reach it.

The duvet was heavier than I expected. As I reached up and pulled it down, it nearly tumbled onto my head along with a cloud of dust. Putting on the cover is always clumsy work. I crawled inside the duvet to match up the corners, flailing around, and by the time I was done my forehead was sweating. It struck me as funny that this was how I was spending a Wednesday evening. Once it was covered, I gave the duvet a few shakes, and the dust hung for a moment in the light from the window and then settled.

When I finally got it covered and set it on the bed and sat down on the edge, I suddenly wondered whether I'd rested at all this week. I had lain down after work, sure. But there was a phone in my hand, and my eyes were skimming tomorrow's schedule. I was only lying there; neither my body nor my mind was resting. It had been like that since Monday. While straightening the pillow, I noticed a book on the nightstand that I had left half-read. It seemed more than a week since I'd opened it.

If resting is something you have to learn

Sitting on the duvet, I opened still().

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you will find rest for your souls.

Matthew 11:29 (WEB)

At first I snagged on “Take my yoke upon you.” Telling someone who wants to rest to take something on? But then came the part after it, “learn from me.” I read it as saying rest doesn't just arrive, that it's something you learn. I'd thought lying down would be enough to rest, but it seemed I'd never properly learned how to rest. Reading this sentence didn't mean my mind found rest right away. But one very small practice I could try tonight came to me.

I plugged my phone into the charger and left it on the desk, away from the bed. When I turned off the light and slid under the duvet, my toes warmed up quickly. Tomorrow's work will still be there tomorrow. Even so, tonight I decided to practice lying here and doing nothing at all. When I pulled the edge of the duvet up under my chin, a faint smell of dry sunlight came from it. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd smelled something like that.

Today's breath — Leave your phone outside the bed, pull the duvet up to your chin, and breathe out slowly three times.