My Sundays are often filled with a kind of “Sunday-sickness”.

I recently read this phrase in Barbara Brown Taylor’s memoir, Leaving Church. She wrote that when she finally left her church she tried to regain the art of really resting on Sundays. Now, first of all, when Ms. Taylor left the church you have to understand that she was the ordained Episcopal priest of said church.

So, this was a woman who was busier on Sundays than all her already-very-busy-being-everything-to-everybody on the rest of the days of the week. She wrote that the experience of declaring the Sabbath holy and not being busy nearly took her out.  She was so hooked to her frenetic and frantic life, that when she dared to stop it, the train nearly derailed and she quite literally felt sick.

My disclaimer right off…I am not putting myself in the same category. I do not want to throw the back of my hand to my forehead and say, “You just wouldn’t believe how busy I am!” I believe there is an undeclared contest going on in our society to one-up each other on the busy scale. I am not entering into that game.

However, to do absolutely nothing is still a huge challenge. On Sundays I allow myself reading, writing, walking, visiting people, art-gallery visits, shopping and generally lolling about. Because of these self-imposed rules I can see how each religion started to work on the fine print of their original laws. Already I’ve started splitting hairs when I decided I can do writing as long as it’s not internet-based writing. You see how the dogma and bureaucracy starts?

But, like Barbara Brown Taylor, I find this an unnerving exercise. For that very reason I feel it must be worth doing. If I’m going to be so uncomfortable with it, perhaps there’s something worth exploring, non?

This past Sunday was the big one. Picture this. The weekend company has left. My husband has left and won’t be back for two days. My 17-year old nephew/son has left to go camping.

In short. I am alone. The house is quiet. I lie on the sofa and can’t even summon the energy to read. This in itself is bothersome.

Isn’t this what depression looks like?  But I give in to it. I pull out the the blanket and nap. There it is. I napped. No lightning hit. Turns out I was just tired. That’s all. What a concept. I woke up refreshed and happy. I felt like a smart cat stretching after a snooze in the sun.

Then, I saw this Real Simple Life Lessons Essay Contest in The Writer magazine. (You were wondering if I’d ever get to that contest weren’t you?) I got my laptop, flopped back on the sofa and spent the next six or seven hours having a wonderful time writing and ended up with a 1600 word draft of my entry.

Unfortunately, it was on Monday (when I was once again allowed to use the internet) that I discovered it’s for U.S. residents only. Still, it was a glorious writing afternoon/evening and it would never have happened if I’d been too busy being busy. I’m thinking I could be on to something here. Might be good to incorporate a little of this Sunday thing into every day…not too much mind you, but just enough.