In search of a Rest Box
An artist date turned treasure hunt + a gift of support!
Last week I took myself on a treasure hunt in search of a rest box.
It was Wednesday and I’d woken up tired, which is often the case, and angry, which happens less frequently but only because it’s a feeling that’s more “dangerous” and therefore gets left unfelt. On this particular day, the anger was there just under my skin and I wanted nothing to do with it but had little choice other than to let it slowly seep out, as the dam I’d built could no longer hold it all in.
Begrudgingly holding space for the discomfort of my present feelings, I drove over the river and through Portland to a shop called Cargo. It’s a place worth visiting even if you have no intention of purchasing anything. Housed in what once was a warehouse, there are treasures from floor to ceiling in all kinds of colors and textures. I wandered around un-rushed as one might through a museum. I ran my hands over woven fabric, soft Japanese paper, the coolness of a tin box of assorted chocolates, and delicate ceramic dishes.
I’d been listening to
‘s book Permission To Rest earlier in the week and kept thinking about the “rest box” she introduced as one of the suggested rest practices. So here I was in search of a “rest box” of which I had no particular thing in mind other than that it be large enough to hold my phone and a couple slips of paper, but small enough to not take up too much room and that it feel… sacred or magical in some way.After wandering the main floor of the shop I saw only one box that matched my desired size, but it lacked the something else I was hoping for. So, I decided to take a peak in the basement before moving on with my day.
I spiraled my way down the stairs into what’s arguably the most intriguing part of the shop. The dimly lit basement is a maze of unique well-worn wooden cabinets, many with glass fronts, ornate decorative elements, tiny drawers, and hidden compartments. I moved about, my eyes adjusting to the light and playing a tricky game of eye spy, until I came to a corner of the shop that was roped off with a small handwritten note saying “work in progress.” The string was tied to a six-foot tall cabinet with a glass front and inside sat, the rest box I’d been looking for. I took the risk of gently opening the cabinet without disturbing the warning sign and lifted the small box into my hands.
It was as perfect as could be. Just the right size, it had a rusty metal clasp that held down a lid that opened in a peculiar way with two sets of rusty hinges.
And best of all, it felt magic and sacred and just right.
I emerged from the basement, rest box in hand, and nearly skipped to the register to pay for my new treasure. The anger I’d felt earlier, while not fully gone, had gently softened in the space created by the joy of letting desire lead the way on this treasure hunt.
I went home, found a spot in my bedroom for my rest box, slipped a few sheets of paper inside, and a tiny pencil and it’s become a sacred new support to my budding rest practice.
What is a rest box? Good question! Ashley describes it as “a place for things that I don’t want to take with me into rest. It’s a way to make rest intentional and sacred… You simply put what you want space from in the rest box and allow it to be there knowing that it’s not going to get solved or fixed right then. It’s a tangible way to let your mind and body know that you are committed to taking refuge in rest.”
Ashley suggests using a rest box, which could be as simple as a shoe box, in tandem with other rest practices. Simply place whatever you don’t want to bring into your rest practice into the box, such as your phone, and any thoughts or worries that you can’t seem to create space from written down on a slip of paper. Once you’ve finished your rest practice, check back in with the contents of your box. Notice what’s shifted if anything and how you might reengage with the contents in a new more supportive way.
May we remember that rest is a birthright. May we know that we are inherently worthy of rest. May we create space in our lives for rest. May we see rest as a revolutionary act. May we connect with our power through rest so we may show up fully for ourselves, our families, our communities, and the world.
I am honored and grateful to share the following words eloquently woven together by one of my dear coaching clients:
Working with Raina is like sitting in front of a mirror gently lit with candles. She offers a soft and generous reflection of the inner landscape I often turn away from, inviting introspection and beckoning along pathways I've always held but didn't know existed. To trust Raina is to give yourself the greatest gift. Where you are tender she will hold; where you are brittle she will soften; where you are hopeful she will help you shine. Accept her offering of welcome—Raina will be there to warmly embrace you.
—
Anonymous Coaching Client
As we come to the end of this year and begin the transition into the new one, a time for reflecting on all that’s unfolded and for planting seeds for the future, I would love to offer the supportive container of an integrative coaching session.
As a gift to those looking for this kind of support, from now until the end of 2023 all sessions are free!
And use the code RECEIVE2023.
Read more about One-on-One Integrative Coaching with me here.
Every other Wednesday I’ve been spending the evening with my mother and Grandmother in her home. We sit at her small round dining room table, the same one I sat at as a child where my brother and I would eat “cinnamon toast fingers” and her vegetable soup made from canned green beans and tomatoes that somehow tasted uniquely delicious. She’ll be moving in the new year, my Grandmother. We’ll be saying goodbye to her home, the one place I’ve known my entire life. It’s the home my parents brought me home to when I was born. It was safe and consistent and an anchor through many storms. Last week we sat at that dining room table and when my grandmother asked me how I was doing I simply began to cry and then I sobbed and they listened and the three of us sat there sharing our pain, the cumulative pain of our three generations of women and the many generations before us. To be able to feel the anger, the hurt, the rage, the exhaustion, together. To let it be okay to not be okay. To let our tears flow. I’ll remember that evening forever. A healing through feeling.
This song. I imagine it would make a perfect companion on a walk leading to a grand view of the sea from up high on a hillside. It’s part of a playlist I call “Safe” full of songs that evoke that feeling and bring me home when needed.
A beautiful web hung between the trees adorned with dewdrops spotted by Omi on a Thursday morning walk.
This declaration in the hall at my children’s school and how it makes me yearn to be back in kindergarten, or perhaps to bring that feeling to my life now.
The small sign below the star reads: “There is always time in Kindergarten” This candle. Technically nothing special, likely purchased from Joanns or Michaels in the 90s, but in so many ways it is actually oh so special as it holds many a felt memory of my childhood and my mother’s love of celebrating solstice. We light it before and during meals. A flicker of light at a time that has felt very overwhelming in our household of four as of late. A gentile reminder to slow down. There is always time to strike the match and light the flame. To bring magic to the moment. Deep breathe. Nourishing food.
I am strong and well resourced enough to allow the discomfort I’m avoiding to be acknowledged and felt. When I find the courage to meet my discomfort with curiosity and compassion, I release the power it has over me and I become available to support, healing, and ease.
With endless love and deep gratitude,
Raina
P.S. How rested do you feel right now? If there was nothing stopping you, would you want to lay down? If so, can you give yourself permission to rest on the floor for just two minutes, connecting with your breath, connecting with this moment? 💌
What a beautiful testimonial from your client. She reflected your and the presence you hold perfectly! That too is the essence I feel in your coaching arms. ❤️