I did it yesterday. Without delving deeply into the thought of any particular technique, I stretched myself full-length on our couch, closed my eyes, and did it. Napped.
Rather frequently these days do I bask in this fine pursuit, and given that I have now benefited from a lengthy stretch of years during which I have advantaged myself by such fulfillment, I am thinking to announce that I have mastered this fine art. I’ve come to believe I have a genetic propensity for success along these lines, for although I have come across splendid articles on this diversion, complete with detailed instructions that promise a successful one, it has come quite naturally to me, and although I have read widely, I do believe I could have become skilled at napping had I read nothing.
Well, the development into a daily happening has taken a few years, I admit that, for, earlier in my life, the naps were weekly happenings, and usually called for accommodation come drowsy Sunday afternoons following large lunches. But habitually, and with ever increasing frequency, my body has demanded that potent drug called a nap, so that now come mid-afternoon, I am helpless with desire.
Not all is lost because of this addiction, for the literature speaks glowingly of the benefit of naps, and impressive lists of notable people who also succumb are inked onto paper and electronically circulated about the globe in electronic bits and bytes.
Admit it: You’re hooked too. Eye a couch, grab a pillow, stretch out your body and close your eyes. The rest will quite naturally follow.
My devotional blog is here.