The change in the weather, from miserable and grey to blue sky and hot sunshine, may have something to do with it. Or perhaps it's just a new cycle. But I think what really broke my tense mood was the opportunity to just rest and be.
Our friends in Norfolk gave us a lovely weekend. We watched swallows feed their young under the eaves of an old pub in Heydon. We ate the most gorgeous home cooked Indian food. We had lazy breakfasts and looked at art in Cley church and on the beach. We walked through wetlands and along old railway tracks. We ate large amounts of great cake. For a few days, there was nothing to achieve, nothing to prepare for or make or move or organise. It was restoration for the soul.
Most of the time, my meditation practice gives me enough of that soul restoration each day to keep me going. But with the excitement of the last few weeks, even when I managed to stick with my practice routine, that didn't cut the mustard. I needed more. I needed a holiday, some time away from it all, a moment of real rest.
It doesn't really surprise me that this comes as a lesson to me. I am liable for feeling guilty for being tired. I have no idea what story of my past makes me resent tiredness so much, but I do. Some part of me really believes that I should be able to keep going, and do everything, virtually without limit. So why would I need a holiday? Why shouldn't I be able to move effortlessly from my paid work to building a completely new life without even blinking?
Truth is, I did need a holiday. I needed some time to not think about what the front of Westacre is going to look like, or when I'll finally manage to film some explanatory shots for the first episode of the video blog, or how many people have liked the page on Facebook or watched the welcome video. Or about students and tutors at work for that matter.
Right here, I was tempted to put some wise final words about how meditation is a brief daily holiday that will keep your store of rest topped up. But that's not it. What really did it, what really restored my soul was picking up pebbles on the beach, collecting feathers of crow and magpie and pheasant, looking trough old clothes for something that might suit my friend. What I needed was play. I needed to nourish the soul of that little girl inside.
Isn't it odd? I know even less about play than I do about rest. I can't wait for OBOD Lughnasadh camp, where I'll have a chance to explore my inner child with my tribe. I'm hoping for lots of opportunities to play.
There won't be a blog next week, as I will be learning what I need to know about playing at that camp. But if you want to know more about our big adventure, there is lots to explore on www.westacre.org.uk. This blog is published there, along with lots of news about our life changing project. You can also like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.