An ode to rest

Ukuthele.

Ulivila.

Intombazana ayilali emini.

Uyakwazi ukuququzela.

Uyashixiza.

She’s conscientious.

She’s so responsible.

She’ll get it done.

Pick up your feet.

Don’t drag your feet.

Walk briskly.

These are some of the messages I internalized growing up. I grew up with no room for laziness, ubuvila. It was an insult that cut to the core of the kind of girl and woman I want to be.

My first visit at Lalela (I can't remember who took this picture)

Recently I wrote in my journal: I don’t rest enough. I wrestle with compliments about how and why I get things done. A huge part of my identity is about being a person who gets shit done.

Last year I was working on a PhD, I started a podcast, I traveled, I wrote papers, I started an organisation, I hosted a big public event. I was part of lobby groups which meant tv and radio interviews and meetings. That’s just a list of the things I remember. 

I love that I get shit done. But how do I learn to rest? How do I see laziness as a form of kindness? I’ve started to use the word schloomfing as a way of getting into laziness mode. Schloomfing looks like not getting out the house. It looks like not opening my laptop. It looks like lying in bed and enjoying the light streaming into my bedroom. It looks like actively blocking out the world.

The sky at Lalela.

Schloomfing is an effort.

There’s guilt.

My period pains are the only biological condition which force me to stop. But that’s one day a month and it comes with pain. I know that when I do have period pains my body is sending me a message. “Slow down baby you’re going too fast...”

I wrote my first piece post-PhD. My supervisor sent me a cryptic message: 

I see you. 

I asked her what do you mean? 

She said back to writing

I said Oh yes (monkey emoji) I wrote down all the pieces I wanted to do since you banned me from other writing now I'm going back to them.

She said The ink is still wet on the thesis...(wink emoji)

I said (monkey emoji) I know but I'm not good with taking time out (face palm emoji).

She let me be.

In the veldt (Zen Marie)

I spent a weekend in Port Elizabeth and Makhanda with friends recently. I was celebrating a friend's achievement and the weekend became a long weekend with women whom I love and respect deeply. When I arrived in PE I picked up Zora Neale Hurston's Their eyes were watching God and started reading in spite of the fact that I had work to do. I used Zora for work-avoidance. Blasphemy. The rest of the weekend was emails and admin (reluctantly) and some beach and a movie. When my friend dropped me off at the airport on Sunday I said "I haven't laughed this much in a long time". Here's to more rest and laughter.

I started writing this post while lying in bed yesterday. Instead of enjoying that moment, I counted all the things I hadn't done because I woke up a little later than I should have. Should: a damned vocabulary. And now I am completing this while sitting in my friend's room at Lalela; the safest place I've found where I live according to a different rhythm. As soon as I hit the gravel road I have no choice but to slow down.

Lalela: the view from the stoep.

I’m writing this as a confession and a wish. That one day I will embrace the art and pleasure of laziness.