Yesterday I shared how, for me, centering is an essential part of doing nothing. By now I hope it’s obvious that I’m not referring to a sort of escapist version of “doing nothing” that gets romanticized as dolce far niente. This isn’t about “enjoying life,” treating yourself, taking a break for self care, or even bringing mindfulness to a directionless stroll or your morning cuppa. I almost wrote “merely” there, but that is a first step and I don’t wish to diminish it. There is a place and time for the aforementioned, and I encourage the experience of all those forms of “doing nothing.” They are enjoyable and also nourishing to our well-being.
Yet I am talking about something more significant. This is about the ability to embody BEING-ness without convenient boundaries or time limits that keep us feeling safe. The “doing nothing” that really fascinates me is the sort to which we feel called, even pushed into. Life happens and suddenly we have a ton of time on our hands. Or we feel a strange but growing desire for more space, silence, and stillness in our lives.
How lucky you are. You are being called to self-companionship. This isn’t just about exploration and growth, but truly witnessing yourself and holding yourself like never before. Instead of giving in to all the normal impulses to fill time with diverting or “enriching” activities, take the less beaten path. And when the old thoughts and emotions inevitably come to whisk you back onto the safe and narrow, kindly invite them to back off just a little and follow you on this great adventure.
And a great adventure it will be, even if no one but yourself can appreciate or understand it. This is sacred time, my friend, and I offer you blessings on your journey.
I think I have one more post in me to wrap up this series, in which I share how I finally get an answer to a question about centering that I sent out into the ether at the start of the summer. Stay tuned!