Nap

I turned the deadbolt and slid the chain into its groove. With the world locked out, I allowed a heavy sigh to rise from chest to mouth, and I released it audibly. With a forward flick of my left ankle, the first rubber flip-flop was free. Then, the right. I dropped my shoulder bag to the floor and stepped over it, now barefoot. I reached behind my torso and unclasped the binding band of my bra. I approached the oversized, overstuffed white-on-white damask upholstered chair. I crawled into its lap as if it were a tender mother. There I napped for close to two hours, my left facial cheek nestled into the doughy chest of the back cushion. I awoke with the slight sting of salt in my eyes, traces of tears that had swelled even while I slept. I was calm now, refreshed.

That day had been a difficult one, and it wasn’t over yet. There were still lots to be done, chores to be attended, preparations to be made for tomorrow. Yet, that period of rest seemed essential. There was a time when I would have thought a nap a frivolous luxury. There was a time when having allowed myself those couple of hours of comfort would have elicited a round of self-flagellation. But midday napping, I have learned, is one effective way I can take care of myself, a way I can nurture my inner child, a way that does not place demands on another to soothe my heart when it aches.

Never underestimate the healing power of a nap. It’s a way to tell yourself, “I love you.”

Be enlightened!  ~ M