On the art of doing nothing.

As I came home yesterday from having been out and about with my fiancé, I didn’t feel like doing anything. It occurred to me how seldom I do nothing. It is so easy getting lost in checking emails, checking blogs, checking the phone… or whatever else distraction we can occupy ourselves with.
I often fall into the trap of distacting myself, even though it is at these times where I just am, where I just sit and look at the world, follow the birds’ flight, listen to the sounds of life that I get some of the best ideas.

I think we need to connect with this silence in between breaths, as well as we need to cultivate doing nothing in particular in our lives. Because I think it is out of that place that creativity, the answers to our questions, arise.

Yesterday afternoon, all on its own, had a lesson of the practice of being embedded in it. The art of doing nothing.

As I lay down on the couch, I simply slipped into a state of half-sleeping, half-meditating.

Feeling the sun follow its path on the sky, feeling its rays trace a line from my feet to my head till it went down behind the buildings nearby. Sometimes doing nothing is all there is to do. Sometimes it’s the only right thing to do.


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