Every week we talk about letting go of our busy weeks and taking a break for Shabbat. Every year we read in the Torah about the sabbatical year, and acknowledge the importance of regular periods of rest and renewal for our own health and the health of our planet. We read studies about unhealthy workaholic lifestyles, the hazards of relying on fast foods, the damage we do to ourselves by foregoing leisure time to cram in additional activities. Yet at the same time we concede the value of taking time out, we convince ourselves that it’s a luxury we can’t afford.
And here’s where I say that taking time out is not a luxury, it’s essential. And here’s where I admit that, as convinced as I am that it’s essential, I (like many of us, I’m guessing) fail to make that time out a reality. After awhile, taking time becomes an intellectual ideal or — at most — taking a full day to simply collapse after a very long, busy period.
So why does this suddenly seem paramount? Normally I have a two-month opportunity for downtime between Confirmation and the start of High Holiday choir rehearsals, and a two-week break over the winter holidays. For a variety of reasons these breaks didn’t happen over the last year, so I find myself caught off guard this summer when those quieter days suddenly return.
Over the past couple of weeks, there have actually been clusters of days where I’m not scrambling to get to the next obligation. After initially feeling lost when every minute wasn’t programmed out of necessity, something fascinating happened: I felt like I had time to think. Having down time is not only important for letting my body rest a bit (although I am almost surprised by how good a swim workout can feel after a couple of good nights of sleep); not having to triage the multitude of commitments each day gives me a chance to think.
I remarked recently to someone that, as a child, I had lots of unstructured time. My siblings and I generally had one weekly activity outside of school. There were many days — especially on weekends — that we left the house in the morning and were told to be home by dinnertime. Boredom was considered our own problem whose solution was personal creativity. When every minute of the day is planned, there is no time for — and sadly no real need for — creativity.
On these days when I’m not having to devote most of my brain power to processing the immediately pressing tasks, my mind has a chance to wander. I have the chance to dwell on things that interest me and play out ideas in my head. There is, for me, warmth and joy in reopening parts of my being that have been closed off for too long out of what I tell myself is necessity. The creativity that blossoms during these quieter weeks will enrich the work of the coming year. And the creativity replenishes my spirit, allowing me to once again recognize and embrace the many blessings that surround me.
