When was the last time you did nothing? That you had an unscheduled day? That you just did something you enjoy?

We live in a culture that exults being busy. Being overworked and overscheduled is a contagious disease so ingrained in the population that we've become suspicious of people who don't have it. People are admired when they don't have time to read for fun or to go to movies and concerts or that sleep only a few hours a night. We boast of our 24/7 access at work. We schedule our time off so tightly that we might as well stay at work. It would be more restful.

I'm a bog fan of Saint Benedict of Nursia. The father of the Benedictines, he transformed monastic life in the West, stressing not asceticism and isolation as much as balance — between solitude and community, between prayer and work. He espoused a concept called holy leisure. He believed that it was necessary and good to rest from our labors, to enjoy the beauty of creation and our fellow human beings, to simply bask in God's goodness. After all, even God rested on the seventh day. Why shouldn't we?

I struggle with this all the time. I feel guilty for taking an evening to lie on the hammock reading for fun. There's so much I could be doing. Watching a television show, taking a long bath, or just going for a long leisurely walk seems indulgent, something that can only be a reward if I've crossed enough things off my list.

This summer, I'm working to break myself of the habitual belief that time not spent accomplishing something is time wasted. I'm trying to let myself read because I want to or to lie on the hammock just because the humidity finally broke and the breeze is just so lovely. There's so much on my to-do list. It's a constant struggle. I won't be entirely successful, but I can keep on trying.