I have a rare Thursday off from professional duties, so I intend to get some grocery shopping done (I still have a household to run, after all). Then perhaps I'll spend some time editing the sequel to my novel, The Bride of Manhattan. There's also a yard full of dead vines that could use harvesting for my bonfire pile. And all those books I have to catch up on…
Well, I opened the morning with tossing handfuls of peanuts into the back yard for the two dozen or so Blue Jays and Tufted Titmouses (Titmice?) and Red-bellied Woodpeckers and squirrels (and always-late-to-the-party Mourning Doves). Then I opened my email and found this article, from The Guardian, “The Art of Doing Nothing.” The Dutch call it niksen, and it may be the answer to “burnout culture.”
Huh.
“We are typically the most happy when we are active. And in modern society there are lots of nice things to do. As a result, we do a lot. The pace of life is higher than in non-western societies and the level of life satisfaction is also high and keeps rising. And yet … A side-effect is that we get into time pressure. And we dream of more relaxation.” Niksen gives us what we crave: an explanation for what’s missing—the presence of nothing in our lives.
—Viv Groskop (quote from Ruut Veenhoven, Erasmus University Rotterdam)
I'd love to hear what you think about the article, but let's face it, you don't need another thing on your To Do list today. So, I share with no expectations. I hope it helps you to find whatever sacred nothingness you can find today.
Viva niksen.
So I read the article and a few things come to mind.
1. I spent my formative years in Switzerland and remember distinctly that doors were always closed there. The article mentioned no blinds or curtains on windows, like an invitation to glimpse into a life... I found this intriguing. Did they perhaps like the limited daylight so much they never wanted to block it out? In Switzerland, doors and windows were constantly shut, implying a sense of "me here - you there". Odd
2. Doing nothing is quite hard. Trying to meditate, for instance, has resulted in frustration and confusion. How come I can't be still? What's wrong with me? As soon as I have a moment to relax, I want to read something or sip something or crochet something or scribble something. To just sit and do nothing? That's an art I'd like to master one day, but I have no idea how to begin.