I am admittedly not great at rest in the traditional sense of the word. Self care for me doesn’t look like trips to the spa - though I don’t mind them.. or lounging around all day - though I do think that has merit and should be done regularly.
One could argue that I don’t like to be quiet with my mind.. we have spent a lot of time sorting out what’s true and not true.. we are not always on the same page but my mind and heart work together pretty well.. We’ve spent a lot of years in love with stillness and have found the places and ways that work - that keep us united. We have kept at it for a very very long time.
Rest comes to me in creativity. It comes in quiet places of wonder.. it comes in unplugging from the busy patterns of living into spaces where chores and shoulds do not exist.. or they barely exist.. I find rest in the song of a feathered friend, the chirp of the katydids, fresh clean air, and the sound of my own heart.. or my lovers sleeping breath..