So, I’ve been off work all week, for my own personal holiday, because if you’re going to work for the angst mill that is State Government, you may as well take advantage of the benefits, including paid vacation leave pretty much anytime you want to take it. And I did little things to celebrate me, like get a massage, and cook some good food, and buy myself a few knick-knacks that I normally wouldn’t bother with but needed in order to feel special right now. It’s been nice enough.
Today, I have absolutely nothing planned. And I don’t know what to do. I should pick up and read a great hunk of this book I’ve been working on since Christmas by a Nobel Prize winner that is surprisingly good and very well written and not academic at all, just a good story. But long. It’s the story of a lifetime, literally, and the fact that most of us live this way, a long, slow, lifetime, but we don’t actually do a whole lot necessarily, but we often do much more than we realize.
But the sun is out and I do not feel like reading. It is mid-morning, and I feel I should DO SOMETHING. My inner self feels I should DO NOTHING, because doing nothing is much harder than doing something. We don’t get many Zen moments in this life, and we should try to allow ourselves the opportunity to experience more of them.
So maybe I’ll pick a direction and pick a road and just follow it for awhile. Not a road that leads TO someplace, but some little backroad that leads not much of anything, except fields and homes and cows. Just for an hour or so. Or however long it takes.