Let me preface this by saying that I feel slightly silly beginning a post entitled "the beauty of doing nothing" by writing about this weekend's 15 mile run. Obviously, 15 miles is something--a long ways, more miles than we have fingers on which to count (my two-year-old would have problems getting to this number), a lot of work--but if you stick with me on this you will see where I am going.
This Labor Day weekend found us in Nebo, NC visiting some great friends--fantastic people who've chosen an alternate lifestyle of sorts. It would take too long to relate what it is they do, so I'll just say that they are serving as foster parents on top of a mountain in western NC and are living amongst the hills, mountains, valleys, lakes and streams that the state offers. They were gracious enough to allow us to visit them, providing us with meals, entertainment, and our own living quarters.
With a setup like this, the weekend promised to be a relaxing one. The only thing I HAD to do was the 15 mile run--no small chunk of change but something I was looking forward to. The great Hurricane Earl, with it's mighty winds and torrential rains, had prevented me from getting a run in earlier this week (although, given that Earl was more reminiscent of one of those pissy cartoon clouds that follows one person around and rains on them, the lack of a run probably had more to do with the fact that I would have had to get up at 5 in the morning to do it). I was actually looking forward to running in NC, for it would give me the opportunity to see some of the sights the area offers.
And it certainly did not disappoint. Like I said, our friends live on top of a mountain, so on my run down I saw horses and cows who observed me with looks of boredom while they grazed on their food, I heard brooks babbling like it was their job, and I witnessed the waters and cliffs of Lake James, a mighty lake residing in the valley of the surrounding hills and mountains. Going back up the mountain I took in lush forests dense with undergrowth and the distant mountains, which in the crisp early morning light looked like they had been just recently painted there with God's own brushstrokes. It was glorious, refreshing, and gave me clearance to do whatever it was I wanted for the the rest of the weekend.
And we certainly packed it in: swimming, hiking, picnicking, canoeing, and marshmallow-roasting were some of the featured highlights. My favorite part of the weekend, however, was completed unexpected. It came during the boys' nap time. Kevin was away playing basketball so I was keeping watch at the apartment in which we were staying. After my own thirty minute nap (and might I just say, naps might be one of my favorite things in this life. I think I look forward to them waaay more than I should), I grabbed some coffee and a book and sat myself down outside. The weather was gorgeous: low 80s, no humidity, and lots of sunshine. My chair was placed in a Monet-like landscape, and featured splashes of light which danced off the leaves of the trees, sending a glittering cascade of light down on the surfaces below.
I had intended to read, and for a while I did. But then something hit me: the realization that I didn't have to immediately get up and start dinner, or clean the kitchen, or rake the yard, or fold laundry. I could just sit there and do...nothing. And I did. Or, more precisely, I thought. And I napped. And then read some more, thought some more, and dozed some more.
I can not tell you how therapeutic this was for me. Or how revitalizing it was. Or how rare. My schedule at home simply does not allow for me to sit and relax. Perhaps because of the length of my to-do list or my own self-inflicted pressure, I rarely take time to simply do nothing. Maybe I feel like it's something I'm not entitled to. Whatever the case, I'm certainly not alone. A recent poll reported that one-third of its respondents take five or fewer vacation days per year. Of those who are vacationing, one in three stay connected with work during their "time away" via phone or computer. And psychologists are reporting on a new type of disorder, that of PVSD: post-vacation stress disorder.
I refuse to believe that this is the life we are called to live: one in which we squeeze in so much work that time for anything else--family, enjoyment, and downtime included--gets squeezed out. Aside from obvious health benefits, both physical and mental, it can't bode well for one's relationships.
Now, I am a realist. I know that this life here on earth takes a lot of effort. And in today's economic climate, if you are lucky enough to have a job you will probably do everything that you need to do in order to keep it, including working around the clock. But no matter how much money is in your pocket, what type of job you work, or what your family responsibilities look like, I urge you to take some time for yourself and simply do nothing. Just sit and practice the art of being. Concentrate on the air around you, the way your lungs pull it in when you breath, the sound it makes when you exhale. Put your thought processes on pause and focus instead on your senses. Notice the smells of the upcoming season, the differences between morning and afternoon bird calls, the patterns of the clouds. Just sit. And be.
I know this sounds cheesy. I am not big into yoga or meditation, and maybe I felt entitled because I had run 15 miles on what was supposed to be my vacation weekend, but I was so moved by the 90 minutes in which I did this that I can not help but urge you to do the same. Allow yourself the pleasure. Do it not only for yourself, but for those around you. I guarantee you will not be disappointed.
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