Nothing to do? Truly, nothing. No call to make, email to write, person to go see. There is a moment of nothing to do. And the brain can hardly bear it. TV watching does not count, nor making a cup of tea, nor even meditating. I mean, nothing to do. No, don't read this article, do not tidy the house, do not do the laundry, do not eat a cookie. Do nothing. And the feeling is remarkable. Do not remark on the feeling. Do not write an article about it. Do not realign books on the shelf. Do not read. Do nothing. Just breathe. Be alive. Be just yourself doing nothing. Now. Right now. And then...?
Momentum keeps calling me, like the inertia of a parked vehicle; it is a potential waiting to be realized. The instinct is to move. Look at that; I am doing something. Think on this. Or that. See, I am indeed doing something. So I'll not move, not do, not... But now I'm concentrating on not doing something, and the momentum of that awareness has me aware of just how very many other things I could be doing. Should be...
We are driven by our doing. Even long lonely hours of standing guard duty seemingly doing nothing is still doing guard duty. Just waiting. Boring? How to wait? How to be still? How not to be focussing against doing something when not caught up in the focus on now doing something? Huh? Say again? How to do nothing! Stop reading! Stop...
Momentum has us perpetually at something or other. It's natural. And we become so habituated that to not have something to do (even if it is to struggle against our bondage or to wonder how long this boring lecture is yet to take) is to feel at a loss for life. Surely I can use my time more better? (But never use more-better in an essay!)
Thing is, peeling potatoes while thinking of God may not be a good thing for the fingers necessarily; best to peel the potatoes. We bring our breath to each moment, or we are dead. And in that very breath, each breath, is the essence of what we really do, the rest are details. Taking a breath? Aware of it? So it eventually matters not too much, except for the sake of preference and in terms of respect for others what we do, for in breathing is life, is who we in essence are. And so we find non-attachment to the outcome just an involvement in the journey. And so we find non-attachment to the journey just our exercise of preferences natural to being human. Moment for moment. Breathe.
When the running down of the battery on this iPad prevents me from finishing this essay I may feel... And a host of words come to mind. But if I am not attached to any of those outcomes of possible response then I smile, and just close up this tap-tap on the writing machine. And... Oh well.
And do nothing.