Maybe a nap can be a small Sabbath—an act of trust that the world can turn without me, that strength is received rather than manufactured, that God still reigns— a twenty-minute liturgy of letting go.
When the world dims, another kind of light begins to appear. This is a story of losing some sight and learning to see, not what is visible, but what endures.
By the time we leave the table, after several cups of tea and probably another bowl of curd, we are relaxed and refreshed—which is why we came here in the first place.