I never in my life ever thought about taking an afternoon nap. But over the past few months, find it to be a trending benefit. Is this common among other septuagenarians? My curiosity has lead to never hearing of such a thing as MetroNaps!
Well, I suppose it’s probably commendable, in a way, that in New York
city, the city known for “never sleeping” is now taking naps. This project began at Carnegie Mellon
University in 2003 by providing a chance for over-worked employees, shoppers,
and travelers to put their busy schedules on hold. It seems the goal was to
fight workplace fatigue that workers in Manhattan were having and has seemed to
be meeting the need, demonstrated by its spread in cities across four
continents. The weary are offered a state-of-the-art sleep pod designed to
maximize the invigorating effects of a brief rest. Appropriately, the gift of
napping is also givable. I notice that "Nap Passes" could be purchased by
JetBlue for stressed-out travelers. Well, it still seems alI too odd buying a "pass" for a family member, friend or colleague for one of their septuagenarian birthdays.
In somewhat fashion the subjects of my 74 years
busy life and irritable calendar has perked my interest in Naps. In fact, I’ve
noticed that busyness is the common denominator most folks my age have
developed. Trying to stay up with the young folk? But staying overly busy has also dipped or dripped into the Babybooms life
by what I see in the marketing tactics of products, from smart phones to
portable meals. Everything is meant to improve demanding lives, like mine (or
at least making the promise that all of those “devises” will break the chains
of busyness or make it more comfortable).
I’m reminded of an editorial in the New York
Times, way back in the late nineties which offered a proposal to counter these
chains that bind folks like myself to clocks, iWhatevers, messaging measures, e-mails
and all the rest, 24 hours a day. The suggestion, which Douglas Rushkoff, the
author, admittedly referred to as radical, was to set aside a day, and in
setting aside this day, to also set aside everyone’s electronics. Calling
readers to take a day to refocus and reorder, he was urging the world to give
itself permission to take a full day off. "Maybe the ancients didn't pick
the number seven out of a hat," he reasoned. "Perhaps they understood
that human beings can only immerse themselves in commerce for six days at a
stretch before losing touch with anything approaching a civic, social, or
spiritual reality." I’m find it’s
more difficult than I thought to find an advocate promoting such ideas, such as
Rushkotts now days, well into the twenty first century. Is it, I ask myself, because most folks have
come to believe we can’t afford too?
Socially, emotionally, intellectually, financially? What about
spiritually?
I do find the book of Exodus recounting this
notion also, though it is made clear it is not Rushkoffs idea or anyone else’s.
I’m looking at the twentieth chapter, where it says "For in six days the
LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but He
rested on the seventh day." While each of the six days of God's labor was
pronounced good, God chose to set apart one day out of the seven, pronouncing
it holy, something other, something set apart. In the form of a commandment,
God then tells the people to keep it that way. Something about the seventh day
was not to be forgotten. But more than rule or ritual, I’m reading eleven
chapters further, that it was to be a sign between God and humanity for
generations to come, "so you may know that I am the LORD, who makes you
holy." Wow! Just seeing and understanding that!
But isn’t that just like me? Sunday was always a “day
set apart,” when I was in early age. Without excuse because that's what people in general seemed to do. But after centuries of living with the command to rest, it seems to have been a struggle to see resting on the Sabbath as anything more than a
command. I wonder because I read in the New Testament the recording of where Jesus
found opportunity to remind the crowds, "The Sabbath was made for
humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath."
As I sit here daydreaming of sleep pods and power
naps, I realize that I evidently need that reminder again and again. What if
the seventh day is a gift, a nap pass—a gentle invitation? I suspect if I were
to give this elder’s mind and body rest seriously, I might discover that it is
also a powerful sign between God and me. It would surely be a day set apart
from appointment books and pressing schedules to remind me that the most
pressing aspect of my life is that I am a creature made at the hands of not another
client, another appointment but ANOTHER. Over my life span I am becoming more
and more aware that who I am is most authentically realized and most
dynamically lived out when I am resting
in the presence of God, sleeping like Lazarus in the bosom of Abraham and the
care of a Father who guards me by day and night. Passages like Psalm 121have been so helpful
in this respect.
I don’t know if urban power-napping will eventually
pass from the scene altogether but I do believe, the universal longing—and
need—for rest may be far more important than most folks might realize. If I were a couple of decades younger, coming
to know what I know now, I might have dawned the entrepreneurial hat.
Thank You, Father, God for
providing the gift of insight and giving it at the time You desire, knowing
exactly when I need it. How I love the
gospel message that I have just read where Jesus says to me: "Come to me,
all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Convict me
by the Holy Spirit to slow down long enough to consider Jesus words, remembering
that rest is not only a luxury, but that it is also a need. That I might
remember that the labor of God is far more significant than my own. That I might
remember—and rejoice—that You, the God who watches over me neither slumbers nor
sleeps.
