Not Doing

I'm not good at doing nothing, but I want to be. I'm a fidgeter, a toe tapper, a person with checklists written down in little books. Busy is good. I like it when I work—even if "work" is doing laundry, clipping rose bushes, calling my mom—but I don't know if a human being's only purpose is to get stuff done.

Lately I've been trying to do absolutely nothing now and then. Not reading. Not texting. Not tidying. Not watching anything or listening to anything. It's really hard—the hardest! Which must mean it's good for me. Nourishing somehow. To be quiet and look at things. Consider things. Sit and breathe. I want to be confident in the face of simplicity. I want to lay in a tube in the middle of a lake and do nothing more than look at the place where the trees meet the sky.