Ordinary Days: Return to your rest, if just for a moment

Before I had kids, one of my favorite things in the winter was to have an afternoon — or even just a couple hours — with absolutely nothing to do. A blank space on the calendar. I’d ditch my shoes, put on slippers, grab something hot to drink and dive onto the couch with a blanket and a good book. I could spend hours wrapped up in warmth with my mind in escape mode to whatever setting I’d picked off my bookshelf. 

It was luxurious. I don’t think I even realized how luxurious it was until things changed. 

Because then I had children, who then grew into wonderfully messy, crumb-dropping, drink-spilling, laundry-pile-makers. Then, this annoying person with a nit-picky, have-to-sweep-up-every-crumb-on-the-floor attitude took over my life (Hint: It was me). I didn’t used to be that way. Granted, I used to not have kids, and honestly, my husband Matt and I were neat people, so I didn’t feel the constant need to sweep/vacuum/wipe up. 

Now that that “need” has been awakened, it’s hard to make it be quiet. In fact, it’s hard for me to stop hustling and bustling and generally being fussy about the state of the house long enough to crack open a book until late in the day, when my eyes are about to drop closed.

Then, something else happened to further take me away from that relaxed person on the couch reading a book: I started writing them. When I’m working on a story, most free time during the day is spent pulling people and settings and plots out of my head and getting them onto the page. When I’m not actually writing, those fictional worlds are still spinning in my head, and I find that creating clean, uncluttered space around me helps counteract the complete chaos in my brain (or at least that’s what I tell myself).

One recent Sunday, after I’d spent a decent chunk of time straightening/cleaning/organizing (with my brain completely wrapped up in the book I was trying to finish on a tight deadline), Matt looked at me and asked, “Are you OK? You seem stressed.” 

I almost laughed out loud. Of course I’m stressed! I have a book to finish and a week to do it!

I did finish the book — with a few days to spare — which meant I had a couple days at home while the kids were at school. I had almost a month before I had to go back into the manuscript and start revising, and no other book I had to think about. The relief was overwhelming. So, remembering Matt’s question about my stress level, I decided to do … nothing. I picked a Hallmark movie, got a snack and a blanket, and parked myself on the couch. 

As I watched the opening credits, I realized it had been roughly four and a half years since I’d had no book swirling around in my mind. And yet, it was hard for me to sit still. Hard to focus on just one thing (this particularly terrible Hallmark movie). The difficulty didn’t last long though — I tried it again the next day, and it was luxurious, just like it used to be.

Rest is often hard, but it’s so good and so necessary. For me, resting means physical rest — forcing myself to sit, to relax, to stop bustling and even put down the pen once in a while. Then, my mind settles down, my shoulders drop and I can even (sometimes) pass by a mess in the den and just let it be. 

You can reach me by email me at lauren@laurenkdenton.com, visit my website, laurenkdenton.com or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks, Twitter @LaurenKDenton or Facebook. My debut novel, “The Hideaway,” is available wherever books are sold. My second novel, “Hurricane Season,” will be released April 3.