A few weeks ago when we had the leap day, I came up with this theory. My idea is that Leap Day should be set completely aside from the rest of the calendar - it shouldn't even fall on a day of the week, like it would go, Wednesday, Thursday, Leap Day, Friday, Saturday... etc. You wouldn't be allowed to make any appointments or go to work. (My husband pointed out that there are some professions that this wouldn't be able to apply to, like, the hospitals would still have to be open. I say, he is a spoil sport and should just go with my little fantasy here.)
In this frenzied world, is it too much to ask that once every four years, we have a day apart? A complete day of rest?
Then it occurred to me that there is in fact a name for this. It's called the Sabbath. Once upon a time most people in the western world actually observed a weekly day of rest. Many still do.
I was talking this over with my knitting peeps the other day, and as I did, I realized for the first time in the four weeks that I've been at my new job that I'm working seven days a week again. And I didn't even notice! My schedule isn't actually so grueling as it sounds, but it is true that most weeks, I do work every day. Monday-Friday 2-5pm at the "day job," plus whatever knitting work I can manage to get done, most Saturdays teaching one or two knitting classes, and Sunday nights working with the yoots at church. So where does that leave me with my desire (need?) to start taking the Sabbath seriously?
In fact, I can manage it. I can even do it on the Christian Sabbath, which is funny since I'm not a Christian. (For a while there I took the Sabbath on Monday.) I don't work on Sunday mornings anymore (which continues to be all that I'd hoped it would be), so I can go from about 5pm on Saturday to 5pm on Sunday. Heck, some parts of the year that's even sundown to sundown. How very traditional of me.
As I've been thinking this week about these ideas of having a true day of rest, the universe knocked me on my ass with a terrible head cold, forcing me, after several days of trying to push through, to take to my bed. (From whence I write this post.) I've only done a teensy-tiny bit of work from my bed.
Well, I can't go cold-turkey, now.
