In Praise of Doing Nothing

Today was a somewhat "useless" day for me, in the sense that I didn't get a whole lot of *functional stuff done, and — fittingly enough — I ended up thinking about the fine art of doing nothing...

When I was in my teens and 20s, I used to visit my aunties summerhouse quite frequently because it afforded me a chance to "do nothing." In fact, after my Auntie passed away, I would come to her peaceful house (now part of a family trust) by myself and have stay there for two weeks (or longer), often without choosing see or call a single soul... beyond a weekly trip to the grocery, and perhaps a few trips to the bakery.

In this modern and hectic world, it seems like most people have forgotten how to "do nothing." Or, our perceptions of what constitutes nothing have changed to the point where it looks a lot more like "something," at least to me. Maybe we're simply misidentifying things we want to do as "nothing," and things we DON'T want to do as "something."

Confused, yet?

I am not sure how this all came to pass, although I will put some of the blame on our tendency to fear that we are — somehow — living an inferior life unless every single moment of our existences is filled with some kind of activity. If we choose to simply sit still and stare into space, maybe reflecting on life itself, we label it as "wasting time" or "laziness," and start worrying that we are missing something.

But is time really something we can "waste?"

And what are we so fearful of?

I mean, consider this: Even when we do take time to allegedly sit still, we almost obsessively label it as "meditation," or "relaxation." That way, we can take nothing — and our (Secret? Hidden? Subconscious?) desires to do nothing — and somehow name them as something, thereby putting an acceptably busy face on them.

It was at my Aunt's summerhouse that I first learned to do nothing.

My Aunt Ulla and I would eat lunch — sometimes dinner — and afterwards she would come out on the brick patio in front of the house... and sit.

I would come along.
I was maybe six or seven.

She called it "sitting and seeing."

We would simply sit in our chairs, not talking, and look at the world around us. Leaves moving in the wind, butterflies on the lavender bushes, birds in the trees, clouds drifting by; perhaps listen to the distant sounds of cows, birds and an airplane. Just quiet time; just being alive. In some ways, this was like meditation... but at the same time, there was no "objective" and no time limit. Sometimes we'd sit for less than ten minutes, sometimes for over an hour.

And yes (in case you had doubts!), as a seven-year old I was quite capable of sitting still and doing nothing for an hour. In fact, I enjoyed it immensely, coming from a home where I was expected to "make myself useful" during pretty much every waking moment.

"Sitting and seeing" has remained a part of my life ever since Aunt Ulla first used those words and showed me what they meant. In fact, I have mentioned it on these pages, on occasion.

She was the first person I knew... and possibly the only person I have known... who truly embraced and lived the idea that "doing nothing" was not some form of laziness and, moreover, was good for people. I hasten to add that she was actually a very active person... but she lived a very balanced life that included daily naps and taking time to simply watch the grass grow, alongside a rigorous work ethic.

I have now rounded 60 years of age, and I continue to "defy" typical trends in the world by still taking time to sit and see, whenever the opportunity presents itself. As I look back on the 40-some years between "back then" and now... it saddens me slightly that the three most common responses to my recommendation that we all take regular retreats into "doing nothing-ness" have typically be assertions about my "being lazy," or "being in denial of reality" and even outright fear.

Fear (and skepticism), I suppose, of the notion that a person can truly have absolutely nothing going on inside their head. I wonder, sometimes, if Aunt Ulla faced those same responses.

I know she and my father would occasionally lock horns concerning him always being "so busy" and needing to slow down, and he would assert that she was "out of touch" (with reality). She, in turn, would counter his protestations by telling him that we all have choices, and that he didn't have to do so much, he chose to do so much.

As far as I am concerned, even though we may at times feel like we "have to" do a bunch of things in our lives... we ultimately choose to do those things. Sometimes our reasons are good, sometimes they are not, and sometimes we "stay busy" out of habit, rather than need... or out of some kind of fear that our reality will somehow collapse if we choose to not-do something.

But to say that we have to and there is no choice is — in probably 90% of cases — a form of self-deception; a story we tell ourselves...

And so, today I didn't fight my lack of motivation... and instead chose to do pretty much nothing at all!

Thanks for stopping by, and have a great week ahead!

How about you? Are you a fan of doing nothing? Or do you not think such a thing is possible? Is it just laziness? Leave a comment if you feel so inclined — share your experiences — be part of the conversation!

(All text and images by the author, unless otherwise credited. This is ORIGINAL CONTENT, created expressly for this platform — Not posted elsewhere!)

Created at 2024.09.29 23:56 PDT
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