A Sunday Philosophy

I am not, nor have I ever been, particularly religious. When I was little, I enjoyed going to the Lutheran church I was baptized in. I found the songs fun and the children's sermons fascinating. I didn't ever care much about what the pastors said, but I was enthralled with their orations, their strong voices ringing out over a crowd, and the nodding heads of the congregation around me. Of course, as you can tell, the reason I liked church had nearly nothing to do with religion, and nearly everything to do with well-composed words and kind thoughts (two things that I continue to hold dear). I no longer go to church, and I can't even be classified as a Christian, seeing as I'm not sure exactly what I believe in. With that said, I think there's something to the idea of a day of rest. I don't mean as a restriction to prayer and rest alone, I mean a break from the daily stresses we all have to face, a day to tie up loose ends and take some time for yourself.

I first realized the necessity of a day off when I lost mine a few years ago. My mornings were spent on schoolwork, my late afternoons on coaching Red Cross swim lessons from 3 to 6 pm, and my nights practicing (swim practice) at the same pool until 8:30. By the time I got home and showered, it was time to go to bed and my entire day had passed me by. I was constantly exhausted and worn down.

When the opportunity arose to coach for someone I consider my friend even more than my boss, I was ecstatic to accept and reclaim my Sundays. So what do I do now? I focus on myself, because sometimes you just have to be a selfish. I surround myself with people and things that make me happy.

While the details of my Sundays vary, four things stay the same:

1. A cup (or whole pot) of tea: My mama grew up in Scotland for a few years, making her a very enthusiastic Anglophile. Naturally, that means she consumes tea as most other people consume water. And as any little girl, I wanted to be just like my mother. Hence, I've been drinking tea since my mother served it to me (half milk with a good helping of sugar) in sippy cups. To me, a cup of Yorkshire Gold or Barry's Irish Breakfast with some milk and just a touch of sugar is comfort food at its best, so my Sunday has to start with a hot cup of tea (a good breakfast doesn't hurt either). 

2. Lunch dates with my dad: I have two older brothers. The younger of the two used to spend a large portion of his weekend going to restaurants and movies and hiking with my dad. When he went to college, it was my turn to eagerly jump in and fill some of his absence, so my dad and I created a Sunday lunch date tradition. Every Sunday (well most of them), we climb into my Dad's silver Subaru and head to the Annandale Pho 75.

For anyone who could use a refresher, pho is a Vietnamese soup with rice noodles and a slow cooked, flavorful broth. Often times there is thinly sliced meat as well, but I don't eat meat very often so I take mine without. I am a firm believer that the best local restaurants almost always make a questionable first impression. Pho 75 is squished into a slightly run down shopping center between an admittedly fantastic Banh Mi Sandwich store that doubles as a super market and a Latin restaurant that shares a wall with a Latin supermarket. There's almost always a line to be seated, but the wait is never more than ten minutes, even when the it's out the door. Huge communal tables fill the middle of the restaurant and smaller tables line the walls. No frills, nothing fancy, not even a credit card reader. The vast majority of people who cross the threshold are repeat customers knowing exactly what they want, to the point that servers will often take orders while you're waiting in line. After nearly three years of weekly dates, my dad and I finally have a usual that the servers recognize. "The same," they say, "always the same." But why mess with perfection? The soup is perfectly deeply-flavored, the noodles silky, the onions (I add onions) add a wonderful crunch and sweetness, the sriracha (add that too) gives it a fun kick, the plum sauce (sure, throw that in) balances the sriracha with a smokey, sweet flavor that softens the heat just enough, the lime (last thing) lightens it all up and brightens the soup, drawing attention back to the flavors of the broth. In my family, pho is a cure for absolutely anything: stress, rainy weather, a cold, wisdom teeth removal, back spasms, big projects...

3. Movement: I always try to get my blood pumping a bit on Sundays, something I think we could all do a little bit more often. Sometimes that means hikes with friends or family, sometimes yoga from a tape with my mom, sometimes boxing at my gym (I go to TITLE boxing), but no matter what I try to do something.

4. Tackling some sh*t: Try as I might, I never seem to finish everything I meant to in the previous week by the time Sunday rolls around, so Sunday becomes a day to finish homework, clean my room, email some people, sew on some buttons, bake a new recipe, whatever I need to get to.

So if you're feeling run down and stressed out, if you find yourself more flopping into the next week than rushing at it, maybe you should take a page from the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic faiths and take a weekly day of rest.