Letting Things Soak
A friend recently asked what I had planned for the week, and I said, “Nothing.” Except I have one or two things planned, but they’re things to which I’ve been invited. Planning implies something I’ve set up, and the legit answer these days, more often than not, is nothing. I’ve spent most of my life having to be somewhere and do something, mostly going to and from work, so the idea of meandering a through a day, a week, and even a month, is appealing.
Of course, I still do things. I take care of my yard, and work around the house. I write and post my videos, and read books. But I try to keep my day-to-day life relatively simple. And if I do have something planned it is usually close at hand and the commitment is minor. This is a change from the years right after my wife passed away, when I found myself doing and going all the time. It was good then, but this is now, and I’m slowing down.
Time passes fast enough without me pushing the edge of the envelope. For me, personally, having lots of nothing to do gives the things I do have planned a sense of increased importance. It makes them feel special. There’s anticipation and excitement. In a sense, I’m living how I like to hike -- slowly, looking around, listening, soaking everything in. It suits me, because in the end, I’m a slow learner and I need time to let things soak.