Would it be so bad if everything stopped working, just one day a week?
We would, of course, be a part of that moratorium,
but it would be a planned stoppage,
not like the stranglehold when life startles us.
The world would be forced to do things that did not require people
other than those we carried with us,
and we would make do with where our feet would take us
and where our hungers led us. 
On occasions where we might do this for several days,
we could take an old-fashioned walking holiday,
wandering and bumbling into whatever is along the path,
removing the abscess of waiting that inflates much of our lives
in favor of the adventure that hides behind every hedge.
Every cup of tea would become a jewel 
in the crowns of our lives lived not free of strain
but free of the other sorties we mount
in response to not seeing our own country.