There are days when nothing happens. When there are no whale watches, no festivals, no protests. There are days when the cactus in the walkway isn’t blooming, when I haven’t been lucky enough to capture an interesting bird on my camera.
There are days when I’m not in a class, not at the gym, not painting.
Sometimes, in those quiet gaps that are full of possibilities, I find my best days.
They are totally uninteresting to blog about. Who wants to read, “today I stayed indoors, read, played a few video games, and caught up on some TV shows on Neflix”?
Today I’m faced with some fascinating choices: Neflix, go shop for my uniform pants, wash the full size bedding to pack it away. In some ways, these days carry some anxiety for me. Time is precious, and I hate to waste it when there’s so much to be done. Fact is, a lot of what must be done is busy work. That bag of bedding isn’t going anywhere. I won’t need those pants for a couple more weeks.
What is it that makes some of us feel like every moment must be ‘productive’? And isn’t it enough to produce calm and restfulness?
The Radula Archives 