The Art of Doing Nothing

This week I was supposed to start working on launching my summer online course. But I was dreading it. 

I could logically reason myself into taking action or not taking action. I meditated on it and asked, "What does my heart want." The answer was clear. I don't want to teach this course this summer.

I don't need reasons or excuses not to do it, which can always be debated. What my heart wants can't be refuted. One weekend of vacation and 1-hour of self-reflection just saved me dozens of hours of work. I need to remind myself of this because the busier I am, the faster my self-care disappears when that is when self-care is most needed. I'm so good at taking action that I can easily move far down a path in the wrong direction.

Instead, I'm actively practicing doing nothing.

It's a challenge for me to be okay with taking a break. So much of my self-worth and happiness is derived from working and achieving. I'm trying to prove to myself that I am worthy. Prove that I am good enough. But no matter what I achieve, I always feel behind.

I've become introverted around my family since none of them really know or care about what I do for work. It's like I don't have anything to talk about if I'm not talking about work. I'm mourning this sad existence. I want to know who I am and what I care about outside of achieving and work.

I've been reflecting on this asking myself:

• What hole am I trying to fill with achievement?

• What needs do I have that need to be satisfied with achievement?

• What other ways can I fill those needs?

• How would I feel about myself if I didn't achieve these things?

I'm trying to hold on to the thought, "If I sit in front of the TV and do nothing for the rest of my life, my life would still have value and meaning."

In this past week of doing nothing, I laughed so hard that my cheeks went stiff with pain. I sat in awe, watching my 8-month old son fiercely dissolve an orange in his mouth like it was his most extraordinary mission in life. I went swimming twice in the middle of workdays. I binge-watched Selling Sunset. I revealed my extroverted self, hanging out with friends and family every day. I feel more human—more like my childlike self.

Whenever I slow down and stop being Sisyphus pushing my ball up the hill, magic happens. Things arise without force. I'm not sure what will come of this, but I know the shift in my energy will attract what comes next.