A couple months ago, I wrote about the pressure to be productive. A whole lot has happened since then, some of it small, some of it big. As I weather a major transition in my life, I've found sanctuary in paging through old diaries. These mementos of my past selves are a reminder that within each of us is a confused soul and a knowing soul. There is some part of you, deep down, swimming in your intestines maybe, climbing like ivy from the soles of your feet maybe, that gets it. We will always have our beloved friends and family, our favorite artists and activists, for finding inspiration and seeking support. But we will also always have our knowing souls to guide us when we're weary.
It's in this spirit that I've been trying to do more nothing in the hope that by quieting my monkey mind I might better listen in on my knowing soul (does this make me sound crazy? That's because I am).
When my ex asked for space after our break-up, it didn't make sense to me. Part of this was because of how he asked and part of it was because of who I am. I'm more inclined to want to talk through things than I am to sit back. It's been a month since we last spoke and some days are hard. I miss how he cooks rice and the way he wakes up and the thousand other little things that make someone beloved. I can still remember what it felt like falling asleep next to him in the assurance that he loved me and I loved him. I can still sense his hand on mine when I'm meditating.
Reflecting on our relationship, past and present, I'm coming to realize that maybe doing nothing for now is necessary. I broke up with him because I was afraid of doing nothing. I sent messy texts in the weeks after because I was afraid of doing nothing. Everything I did, I did because I worried that if I didn't our beautiful love would dissipate.
Doing nothing isn't always easy. Sometimes, doing nothing is an act of trust. It's for this reason that I want more nothing in my life. I want more empty space to be wholly present. The juiciest moment of every morning is almost always when I am lingering in bed, feeling warm and satiated from sleep. It's when I am doing nothing save for soaking up the sunshine that I feel like some switch inside me has been turned on; that my knowing soul can at last have some breathing room.