Nothing

"Some of us need to discover that we will not begin to live more fully until we have the courage to do and see and taste and experience much less than usual.... there are times, then, when in order to keep ourselves in existence at all we simply have to sit back for a while and do nothing. And for a man who has let himself be drawn completely out of himself by his activity, nothing is more difficult than to sit still and rest, doing nothing at all. The very act of resting is the hardest and most courageous act he can perform." - Thomas Merton

How fortunate I am to have a special retreat where I can get away from the demands of life. I did just that this long New Year's weekend. Four days of no responsibility, four days of doing nothing, four days of recharging my soul. Most people I know would have enjoyed day one, but gone stir crazy by noon of day two. What is it about our culture that refuses to let us relax? I've learned to overcome whatever it is. I've learned to appreciate and enjoy the pure pleasure of doing nothing; the rejuvenating pleasure of simply being.

I can pull out books and thumb through them, reading a bit here and there, stopping when I have had my fill, not feeling compelled to finish a book, not feeling the necessity to accomplish something by seeing a story through to its end. I can jot down interesting phrases and words without feeling like I must write something. I can wander from room to room appreciating knick-knacks and totems I have placed on the dresser or table without feeling a compulsion to dust or neaten. I can open the refrigerator and take a bite of yesterday's chicken without the urge to turn it into chicken salad for lunch. I can put on the same clothes I tossed on the floor last night and not give a thought to doing the laundry or ironing. I can stay up too late watching a movie I've already seen too many times and cry into an entire box of tissue over the sad scenes I know by heart. I can sleep late, take a nap, and stay in my pajamas without the slightest feeling of guilt. I can sit quietly and wait for the deer, raccoons, rabbits and wild turkeys to make an appearance when and if they choose. I can watch a spider spin its opus web.

After four days, or three days, or two days I will be ready, ready to go back to my life. Until next time, when I can once again do nothing.