Fall break begins tomorrow. Not all of our students will be leaving campus, of course. For our Deacs staying on campus, there are options for fun things to do, including seeing a new two-room exhibition at Reynolda House about Georgia O’Keeffe as a gallerist; going to the Carolina Classic Fair, taking one of the campus trails or walking up to Reynolda Gardens and enjoying the fall foliage (or getting some food in Reynolda Village!), or even taking a hike at Pilot Mountain or Hanging Rock, both about a 30-45 minute drive from campus. Students can visit downtown (the galleries at Trade Street are a lot of fun) or try out some new downtown eateries or coffee shops, too. There is a Fall Break Resources page for hours of operation for things like the Wellbeing Center and library.
Whether your Deac comes home or stays here, a common fall break theme is students being tired and weary. They might just have had midterms, tests, or papers, and they might feel worn out. It’s pretty common at this point of the semester. And sometimes when you have had a time of high stress (such as midterms), it can be hard to come down from that heightened state. So today I found a poem that relates to rest.
I like it because it brings out the principles of mindfulness, which have been shown to be so helpful to college students (you can learn more at our Mindful Wake website or our Koru mindfulness courses). By focusing on the immediate moment – not fretting about what just happened, or worrying about the future – and by thinking about your breath and your body, it can bring you a great deal of calm and relaxation.
So if your Deac (or you!) needs a little inspiration to rest via poetry, here you go.
rest / woke
by jamila malika*
wherever you are, whether you are walking around or lying down,
if your top and bottom teeth touch,
if your tongue touches the roof of your mouth,
soften it down and away
notice your eyes—like your tongue—can rest inside your dear head
soften down and away
and your eyebrows, might they rest too?
or if not, notice if you can feel their weight for a moment
like your bottom teeth, tongue, eyes, and eyebrows, notice your shoulders
can there be any amount more space between your shoulders and ears
and your ears—like your shoulders—can let go a little with each exhale
any amount is real good… there will be another exhale for another go
notice if this next exhale can last any amount longer than the last
and the next… and the next… keep going, dear one…
and there isn’t anything you must do or be to be breathed
your exhale will always follow your inhale and your inhale will always follow your exhale
maybe put one hand on your belly or chest to feel your breath in your body
maybe feel breath above your lip or below your nose
maybe hear the sound of your body breathing
maybe find the bottom of your exhale and then the top of your inhale
to do so, maybe stand on all four sides of your feet
notice which feels heaviest: the inside edge, outside edge, heels, or toes
if you are lying down, you can flex your feet to feel that place you tend to rest most on
is one spot tighter than the rest?
if you are standing, you can bend your knees any amount and lift and spread your toes
is there one part that is heaviest?
notice all the parts of you that rest to any surface like the floor, chair, or bed
notice all the parts that don’t
maybe the arch of your foot, or the arch of your back,
notice the parts of yourself that rest on yourself, like your soft inner arms to the sides of your body, or your soft inner thighs to each other
notice because it is nice to know ourselves more and more not because you have to change anything; we can be curious…
if you are lying down, notice on your next exhale how the front of your body softens into the back of your body and the back of your body can soften, too
if you are standing, notice how your shoulders can soften towards your feet and your feet into the floor
if you like, you can speak this aloud: my flesh and bone are home
* The creation of this poem was explained on the Vice website: they commissioned “poet jamilah malika to write a piece that could facilitate rest and relaxation among fellow Black people. She gave us “rest / woke”, a love letter of sorts that tenderly guides the reader through connecting with their body in the moment and remembering to be present and kind to themselves.”
— by Betsy Chapman, Ph.D. (’92, MA ’94)
Categories: the daily deac