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I was absorbed in doing something or other this summer when I got a frantic phone call from Ed wondering where I was and was everything all right because I was 5 minutes late to pick him up and I am always ridiculously early to everything.  I was touched that it never occurred to him that I simply forgot.  So since then I use the alarm feature on my phone to remind me of appointments.

For the past couple of years I also set my phone alarm on a recurring basis to remind me of powerful moments in my life that I want to remember each day.  It isn't really an "alarm".  Perhaps I should refer to it as a notification or reminder.  So at 9:24 every morning my phone calls out a chorus of birdsong reminding me that that was the moment I last held our dog Daisy in my arms.  I felt an unexpected rush of comforting warmth from her into my heart at that time.  So the memory is not one of sadness, but a treasure of great love that ties us together always and forever.  When it occurred it was a beautiful surprise; now it is a sweetness I anticipate holding each morning.  

I have two other daily notifications set on my phone to remind me to pause and remember the moment of other events important to me.  It occurs to me that as the years go by that an ever expanding collection of these recurring notifications could be cumbersome.  Like a roomful of cuckoo clocks all going off constantly.   But for now it is just enough.

Growing up I was reared to be a christian in a kind of uncapitalized, casual sort of way.  But I was also taught to respect all the philosophical and spiritual practices of the world.  Why not?  Muslims have five scheduled calls to prayer each day.  To pause whatever you are doing and pay respect to what is Divine takes self discipline and a degree of consciousness that is so inspiring.  Practicing Christians and Jews attend services regularly.  Shamans retreat from the community to meditate on a regular basis.  The Japanese call the concept of a gap or taking a space "Ma".  The practice of stopping for a moment can serve us well.  

The same practice of pausing can be seen in art.  Each painting needs the quiet places to bring balance to a composition, life to the bright colors and impasto brushwork.

I have been pausing my own paint work lately to participate in a couple of projects for the church of which I am a member.  Derry Presbyterian celebrates it's 300th anniversary next year.  The artists of the church have been encouraged to paint on the slates from the roof we replaced a while back.  We will be selling them as a fundraiser to do something special for the community.  So I did a little plein air piece on a slate to try things out and see how it felt to paint on something other than wood or canvas.  I was working at a scene of the church and trying to mix the right color for the roof top.  After a few minutes of this it occurred to me that I am painting on the slate from the roof itself.  Wipe off the paint and let the slate be the roof color.  Duh.  

So I had a pause within my pause.  First, to paint something other than my usual work for my own purposes, and second, to wipe away the paint and let the slate itself be an active part of the piece.  Oooh.  Deep.

Holidays are a kind of communal rest if you think about it.  Even if they can be exhausting.  I love my usual days, just regular weeks of regular days. They really are my favorite.  But, I appreciate the pause that a holiday brings us.  The reminder of family, of friends, of community, of the changing rhythms throughout the years of our lives.  Whether it be celebrated broadly or just between you and your goldfish, holding a moment can be a restorative thing to do.  

Happy holidays, everyone.  I can't wait to get to where I am going next.  But, for right now, I am happy to just be here with you.

Jill Peckelun