The Art of Doing Nothing
Not long ago, in a moment of intense personal reflection, I realized that I suck at doing nothing. And this seriously concerns me. It does, because I find myself enamored with this concept and yet, I don’t seem to be moving any closer to it. I’ve tried perusing through serene images of Nature in the hopes of understanding what a sense of doing nothing might actually feel like. I’ve listen to well-intentioned people on YouTube videos who explain in great detail that getting to the point in our lives where we can intentionally do nothing, is essential to living a sane and fulfilling life. I get that deep down, doing nothing with mind or body (breathing and other autonomic systems excluded) may actually be the key to understanding who we are, what we are and where we are going. And still, I seem to be programmed at a very basic level to never stop moving. To assume ambition is a natural state. To revel in never ending accomplishments. To be unrelenting as I compare each and every day to the previous one and wonder — what can I do better?
I am not a man of many goals. And yet, I feel compelled to have them. And if I don’t, if I go weeks or months without being able to check one or two off a list, I sulk and peer inward, looking to see if I am still there and if so, what the hell have I been up to? I seem to be well-rooted in the present, appreciate who I am and what I have become, and while offering up…
