We were exhausted at the end of the day yesterday.
We arrived in Barcelona during a full-day music festival, where there was literally dancing on the streets. We made big plans about one last big meal before trekking the Camino and a crazy night out on the town (since we intend to fast from alcohol during our 37-day trek). But when we finally sat down to our delicious meal and wine, we realized that we were both pooped.
As we stretched and yawned, we said to each other, "Wow. It's been a big day."
I bet many of you reading this blog wouldn't have considered our day all that overwhelming. We had booked a cabin on a ship and slept from 11pm the night before (after reading a few chapters from The Golden Compass) until 9am that morning. We woke up, grabbed a surprisingly good breakfast in the ship cafeteria (Irma, our cafeteria lady, snuck us some extra eggs and a smile or two - she was the bomb), spent some time alone so that I could meditate, went back to the cabin to discuss why we shut each other down, read some more, took sporadic naps, and made love. I began writing the first chapter of my book, we checked into our hotel, and went to dinner.
Sounds pretty relaxing, no?
We thought so too. In fact, we laughed at ourselves as we yawned. But then we noticed something. The day wasn't big because of work and traffic and daily frustrations that normally fill our lives and wear us down. It was big because we allowed ourselves to focus on our bodies, our thoughts, our words, our interactions.
And that new focus and attention is unusual.
It requires meaningful energy.
In the coming months, we are both conscious about allowing ourselves rest, even when all we've done is rest. Because sometimes life requires us to slow down.
To sit still.