Today I found that it's a lot easier to schedule a 'Rest Day' into our pilgrimage plan than to actually rest, body and soul.
Stopping walking is one thing, that's no problem; and my tired feet and many itching bites needed the relaxation. I had a brief but deep nap, and a late afternoon pint with a packet of crisps in the shade at the water's edge. Proper day off stuff!
But letting myself really stop, on the inside as well as the outside? That's been challenging: to have no plan, to choose to not be distracted by other people's clevernesses or stupidities (social media, podcasts, news, books: you know what I mean), to be unproductive; to 'be where I am' when I'm standing still ... I notice how the "busy-ness" of the daily walking can trump some of the inner quietude that I wish to preserve whatever the environment.
Sigh ... I can't get it right, can I?
Or perhaps there's a better way to think about it.
Because as I reflect on the day now the evening has come, I notice that I noticed at the time that I was agitated; I did at least have the presence of mind to stop (and laugh somewhat ruefully at myself). I sat there under the oak tree by the peaceful loch and let all my senses do what senses do ... I waited ... and so 'returned to myself'.
Here I am, then (as complex as ever)(with a bit of a laugh, again), just being me.