There comes a time where actions become overrated. Achievements, ambition, reaching for the stars seem out of line, over-bloated, overblown ideas of men. Why not just BE with the stars? Actually look up, for goodness sake, and appreciate the night sky, not only theorize about it?
The Labor Day weekend, instead of perhaps – and according to some mind-conceived, over-zealous, self–righteous figment of my entrained thinking – honoring, well the concept of labor and its constructive fruits, turned out to be exactly the opposite – a feast for laziness in it’s highest glory. But wait! Lazy? How dare you! We should be focused, hard-working people! At the least when preparing our weekend breakfast fare, or planing for the long awaited barbecue! But lazy? Are you serious?
After shedding it’s negative connotation, laziness, or to use a more benign term – bare-bone inactivity – I learned these past few days, is not only okay every so often, it is essential to live a balanced life in this chaotic, constantly shifting, messy world. And I don’t mean perfect balance, which in my view is a prescription for a contrived, over controlled way of living, but in a try-to-live-a-little sort of way. (Wow, is this post full of adjectives, or what?)
So, here I am, on a Wednesday night, tired out of my wits (does having a longer weekend ever make you actually realize how tired you are? It’s kind of like the desire to take a vacation after a vacation), my body yearning for few more hours in bed, my eyes closing at 3 pm, my desire for a hard-ass, kick-ass training regimen dwindling like the flowers I forget to water. Canceling a rock climbing session. How blasphemous, how dare I!
But again, the quivering vestige of sanity and my European-ness whispers, it is good… it is necessary… it is right, so right to rest the body, rest the mind. How else am I supposed to recharge? Where else shall new eureka moments arise from? Where else if not from the mysterious, all-encompassing void does substance and the grandest stuff ever arise? I need healing. We need healing. And I don’t mean tending to deep psychological wounds of the past (thought this might prompt that) I simply need rest. Rejuvenation. Revitalization. A time for the higher order to awaken, rise and take hold of my life. A space for my fragments to reassemble. I feel torn. And I don’t mean undecided. I mean spread so thin that the dough of my being is tearing apart, revealing holes that need mending pronto.
Dolce far Niente. The art of doing nothing. The Italians got it right. It is not about waiting for the weekend to drink a case of Bud Light only to wake up with a hangover and a wrinkly list of hazy regrets the next morning. It is about enjoying that glass of red on a regular basis, reaching for the hugs, baking a cake, savoring the aromas before it’s baked. Because life passes way too fast and there is no time to loose, my friends. And I don’t mean to fan the flames of your undying resolve and hunger to feel your purpose and act. I mean tending to your own undoing. Guilt free, pleasure filled moments of simply being. And if you are lucky to realize it, being one with all without the need to do or prove anything at all. Reveling in the chaos, watching the storm without the need to do anything about it. That, my friends, is freedom. That, is a blessing. That is the foundation that steadies the tall ladder as you climb, once more, to reach for the stars.