daring to rejuvenate

Sarah enjoys going out.  Not anything extravagant--simple things like visiting friends or going to get ice cream or trying some new social activity.  While I'm perfectly comfortable to stay home, doing the same things I usually do nearly every night, she'll be the one to suggest some new outing or adventure.  At first I resist, then, often after being reminded that last time I felt the same way but in the end really enjoyed myself, we'll decide to go.  And it is good.  In fact so often it's exactly what I need right then.  Whether it's visiting with friends when I'd rather sit at home alone, or simply getting out of the house in order to spend some time just the two of us doing something different I come home feeling better, even rejuvenated.  In hindsight I find myself blessed by those moments: opportunities that need to be intentionally taken and lived in to be enjoyed.

The tree nursery often lays off their crew for a month or so in early October, and again just before Christmas until the "big sow" starts up in February.  When I mention to people that I've been off work they'll often say how they wish they had that same free time to "get things done."

I felt that way too.  At first.

I enjoyed sleeping in, showering late, cooking for my wife, reading and watching movies, getting the groceries, practicing drum patterns, all of that.  Yet now that I look back on the time it's easy to see how I could have made more out of it.  Don't get me wrong: I did a lot!  I finished editing my undergrad thesis--something I'd been meaning to do for months!  But do I feel rested now that I'm at the other end of the time?  In some ways, yes.  In others, not really.

Simply having 'no-work' space doesn't automatically make it a space of rest.  We have to choose to holiday.  So often that time of vacation isn't so much about doing nothing as it is about taking the time to rejuvenate.  Rejuvenation comes not from the absence of activity, but from choosing to engage in activities that will restore us.

What are those restorative activities and how can we carve out time to make them a regular part of our lives?

o o o

Thinking about that question triggered another thought.  How can we keep ourselves from thinking only about our rejuvenation?  I mean, we need to take care of ourselves and make healthy choices.  But we also need to help each other.  I was reminded of this in a video clip of Rod Wilson, president of Regent College and professor of psychology and counselling.  He's discussing how we tend to gravitate toward one of those two extremes--thinking only of self and only of others--and how we need a healthy balance.

Given the danger of those two sides: the danger of falling off the side of self-preoccupied, and the danger of falling off the other side--of not even engaging oneself at all--how then spiritually do I function?  Now this is where humility comes in. . . . Humility is not just about Rod's view of Rod, but about Rod's view of Ross and how I conceptualize serving Ross in what I'm doing. . .  Humility is not about my view of myself, it's a way of understanding myself with reference to service.

It's not about me.

So how can we, first, understand this need we have to rejuvenate and take the time to do so regularly for our own health and development; and secondly, how can we seek to foster restorative moments for those around us?

Dare to rejuvenate.  Find that space in your day where you could be doing something that will bring you rest.  Go for a walk, phone an old friend, paint, sing, write, make something, do that thing which you know can restore you--that which makes life's troubles grows smaller (not forgotten, but put in perspective).  Then, having done that, turn around and help someone else to do the same.  We're all in this together!

Be well this weekend,

Nikolas


References:

lessons from the orchestral hall

My first time at a symphony was to hear the music of The Lord of the Rings films by Howard Shore.  Needless to say, it was a truly epic experience.  I had never been to anything of that sort before: the size of the concert hall, the enormity of the orchestra and choirs, that caliber of raw talent and professionalism and passion for music, all the guests dressed in their best (and not a few dressed as Hobbits and Black Riders!)  made for a truly memorable experience.

So when we saw that the Thunder Bay Symphony Orchestra was coming to Dryden we jumped at the opportunity.  Knowingly it would not be the same experience as the LOTR, but we were excited to hear the music and for the opportunity to see some quality entertainment of that variety in our town.  We made it an early Valentine's Day date.

As we entered the auditorium and began making our way to our seats the musicians had already taken the stage.  One could hear short snippets of sound, quiet tuning, the testing of bow on string.  A gentle air of anticipation was about them.  And it was contagious.  After a brief introduction the lights were dimmed and a hush fell upon us.  An air of ceremony.  The concertmaster, Thomas Cosbey, emerged, violin in hand, and took his place at the head of orchestra.  With a simple gesture of his hand he signaled the cue to tune.  There came a rush of slowly building sound. It felt surreal and strange: that those sounds were actually coming from those instruments.  We're so used to hearing music that is removed from actual musicians, especially orchestral music which is so often now only in our lives as the background ambiance in our films.

After the tuning the concertmaster takes his seat as first chair and the hush descends again.  Then the Maestro enters.  We applaud and the orchestra stands to honour him.  He moves to the stand and shakes hands with the concertmaster.  He greets the audience with a smile and a bow.  Then he turns and faces the orchestra.

And the music begins.

author spotlight: john eldredge + way of the wild heart

Way of the Wild Heart is being
is bring re-released this spring as
Fathered by God.

To all the men out there,

Got a book recommendation for you.  I'm just finishing Way of the Wild Heart by John Eldredge. He's tackling a vital question: "How do we become men?"  It's not a book on pop psychology or child development.  It's a map.  A map of the masculine journey, its initiations, its struggles, the core questions we have as men, and the assurance that God wants to and is fathering us.

Here's a brief excerpt:

A boy has a lot to learn in his journey to become a man, and he becomes a man only through the active intervention of his father and the fellowship of men.  It cannot happen any other way.  To become a man--and to know that he has become a man--a boy must have a guide, a father . . . You see, what we have now is a world of uninitiated men.  Partial men. . . .  The passing on of masculinity was never completed, if it was begun at all. . . .That's why most of us are Unfinished Men. . . .

Masculine initiation is a journey, a process, a quest really, a story that unfolds over time.