DEAR READER: WHEN MINIMALISM IS DOING TOO MUCH

Today, my desire to do nothing has it’s own desire to do nothing. I have surrendered to flowing into this moment and allowing the nothingness to have its place. Now all would be copasetic if my mind would be less resistant; she’s the type to bring a plug-in hairdryer camping. The following is her in action.

So, today we do nothing. Nothing. Do nothing how? Do nothing of what we normally do and replace it with something different, or are we to not participate in any activity, old or new? Does this qualify to thoughts only, or just deeds? Where are we to do nothing, which room are we to place ourselves? Technically, you know, it is not really possible to do nothing. That would mean our body would have to stop all function, and I don’t believe we’re ready for that. 

Oh. My. Fucking. God!!!

This shit!

I mean, I love me, I really do, and this type of accounting comes in handy and is fully appreciated when the experience is in great need for it. But, this rhetoric is way too extra for something which is quite simple. This is why I keep reminding myself as well as others, that growth is constant and multi-dimensional, composed of various depths and degrees. When you choose personal growth, know that no part of the whole which is you is fixed. Those pieces will always require adjustment; nothing is truly locked in like a jigsaw.

So I respond, as a parent would to an insolent child (I am and have – I am well practiced) by making a decision instead of engaging and indulging such complexity. I sat my ass down in my living room and chose one of my ‘get focus to get lifted’ tools: chill’n with Netflix (or was it Amazon?). I enjoy watching movies full of more stuff than what’s in my head. I usually choose horror films, they amuse me and stop the chatter.

I love my “Ooh, squirrel!” moments. This wasn’t always so; there was a time when a distraction from my thoughts before I felt resolution, brought a significant amount irritation. I didn’t know how else to be, peace of mind was the constant chatter, not silence.

Glad I made the switch. Sometimes, that bitch (my mind) needs to shut the fuck up (said with love, of course 💓).

close-noir-prints
Close by Christophe Louis Quibe

 

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