Growing up in the late ‘70’s I remember being intrigues with the “Love is…” single frame comic strip:
Remember?
My spin: “Sabbath is…
“Sabbath is a day at the spa.”
Nearby my home is an awesome little spa where you can (for a mere $45) spend an entire day soaking in a tub drawn with water and soothing salts by a lovely stranger who will serve you (yes, serve you) a delectable place of assorted fruits, and bring you a plush terry robe for lounging. Outside is deck adorned with plush pseudo shabby chic lounges, baskets of magazines, and lap blankets in case the off shore breeze is too chilly.
Two things I noticed at the spa:
1. Catching my breath with deep cleansing sighs
2. Feeling satisfied when I drank the cool, cucumber infused, water
It is sort of pathetic that I need to pay money to slow down, to notice such things (duh), but that's where I'm at, chasing sabbath in slow motion.
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