Doing nothing is a wonderful thing to do

After driving an hour each way to work and fighting my way through the day, I came home exhausted and discouraged . . . and then I went for a walk in the rain.

Just a walk around town, through the dark, deserted streets, in the pouring rain with my umbrella. I wandered, walking up one street and down another. I stopped often, just listening to the sound of the rain on the pavements, on the dying leaves, the water pouring down the drains, the swish of tires as an occasional car passed by.

I stopped by the creek to watch water rush under the bridge. I stopped in the little park with the playground and delighted at the glittering of the wet sliding board under the street lamps. I stopped for a long time by the side of a back street, watching bubbles form on the rain running along the gutter, running like a miniature river with leaves for boats, and watching the bubbles form and burst and run down in little eddies and currents and disappear under a pile of soggy, yellow leaves.

And I felt heartened and refreshed.

All day long, I did what was expected of me. I worked, I produced, I drove my car. I made money and I spent money and it drained my soul. Standing out in the rain, going nowhere, doing nothing, fed me, strengthened me, and made me whole again.

The irony, of course, is that the things I do that use me up are rewarded and the things I do that nurture me are considered wasteful. Doing nothing is frowned upon, because doing nothing is a subversive act in a social machine that uses our work like fuel.

And was I doing nothing of value? Is listening nothing of value? Is seeing the world nothing of value? Children should be spending whole days lazing about in back yards, watching the clouds change shape, or running along the sidewalks for no reason but the joy of running. These were considered normal childhood activities when I was a kid, but they are now no longer acceptable. We schedule our kids as pitilessly as we schedule ourselves, and in their “down time” they are expected to consume. The mind has no time to heal.

Who benefits when we are forced to produce or consume at every moment? Who benefits from our passive entertainments and the constant harassment of our minds and spirits?

Being in the body on the earth is not nothing. It is something—it's really something! It's special and wonderful and worthy of our time and attention. I would urge you to take some time, lots of time, to be unproductive, to sit and smile up at the sky, to walk nowhere, play with a twig, hum a little melody, stretch, skip down the street. Just look at the fascinating wonders of the world around you, just empty your ears of the human noise, and you will be strengthened and refreshed. Just rest.
Love,
Lilly