I occasionally become concerned about whether I’m getting enough rest, but it occurred to me this morning, as I was rising at my usual early hour, that the universe, of which I am a part, always gets enough rest. Can we imagine the universe being tired? Can we picture a sunrise being exhausted, a sunset feeling listless, a breeze blowing by in a sluggish manner? Can we imagine a river, even the slowest and narrowest, even one that has been depleted by drought, not doing its proper rivery work in the steadiest way possible? My problem here is one I have to constantly deal with – a tendency to judge and label. When my body feels a certain way, I pass judgment that it’s “tired” and label myself accordingly: I am tired. Instead of simply saying that my body feels like sitting or lying down, I stick the label of exhaustion on it, which makes the situation a “problem” instead of simply another interesting situation in the infinite, vigorous procession of them which is my life.