Except when I'm meditating, I have lots of trouble sitting still and relaxing the way most people seem to do. I don't think this is good and it is certainly the opposite of what I am recommending to caregivers all the time – to practice good self care.
On Labor Day morning, I walked a few steps to the high part of our tiny backyard. Chickadees chattered warnings to each other as if I might harm them. The cicadas sounded unusually desperate, perhaps aware that, like all their ancestors, their life's season is brief. Raindrops from a night storm clung to their own last moments as the sun adopted its mid-morning angle.
As I sat on the curved concrete bench that is the only piece of furniture in our yard, I thought about all the caregivers that were laboring on Labor Day. As everyone knows, hospitals, nursing homes and hospices never close.
In the same way, people are always falling ill or falling into acccidents. They need skilled help to raise them back to balance. And they need it from loving caregivers willing to work while others are enjoying a day of rest.
I've been watching the moon a lot recently. Too often, I miss out on the way he sits up there all white on his navy blanket.
I wonder how many caregivers, walking to or from their cars in a parking lot drenched by night take a moment to gaze skyward; or whether they do that when they reach home. And I wonder how many caregivers, after working the night shift on Labor Day, will find some rest today.
-Erie Chapman
Journal of Sacred Work 
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