The Art of Nothing

Am I in danger of getting too good at doing nothing? Herstorically, my hyper-active metabolism has put doing nothing somewhere between difficult and impossible for me. Attempts to sit and do nothing send me in to fits of fidgeting and/or sleep. Ah. . . The joy of being a mother who falls asleep during a parent/teacher conference. . . I am beginning to wonder if that dynamic has shifted too far somewhere in recent years. The evolution was too slow to have an anniversary. For much of the evolution, it felt like a healthy balance. I've long noted the calming I've experienced since menopause, but have only recently noted that my sedentary days are out-numbering my active days by a pretty good margine. I didn't accomplish that during my drafting days. I used a stand-up work station to help compensate for the fidgetry. I haven't been keeping score of my active days vs the nothing days, but I am beginning to wonder if I should. Maybe. The ability to sit and do nothing has been something of a Holy Grail in my hyper-active life. My lifelong herstory of bouncing reactively from one activity to the next without enough focus to finish any of them isnae any more productive than the endless hours of video streaming I have taken to in recent years. Bouncing reactively is often destructive enough that doing nothing is often the more productive choice.

The part that keeps me thinking it is still well-balanced is that I can still to get up and do what needs to be done. The biggest problem there is that doing what needs to be done seldom takes long. I can procrastinate to my heart's content and still beat the deadline. So far. The angst attached is that crossing that line could be a one-way trip. If I slide too far into the Art of Doing nothing, it might prove to be a tough habit to break.

Dunno. . . Just wondering. . .

Hubs took the day off work today. That gives him time to pick up GS from pre-K before they start the three hour drive up here for the weekend. I've been working a jigsaw puzzle most of this week. I do feel like I'm ready to get on the road for the river region this coming Monday. I may be getting too good at the art of doing nothing, but I do still like to vary the scene outside the window. With the summer heat of the Texas plains mounting, I find myself remembering the river region base camp has much better AC than this dilapidated 1920's ranch house. I still haven't decided whether or not to take the 3 plastic file boxes of spiral notebooks. The inclination of the moment is to remember I've wandered 3 continents with little more than a backpack. There is much to be said for travelling unencumbered by more personal possessions than you can carry.