In support of doing nothing

(and the ocassional staring into the void)

After a trip to Copenhagen this May, one thing suddenly became clear to me: I need a holiday. Funny feeling, considering I have just returned from one. Before the guilt settled in, I tried to unpack what was fundamentally wrong with this otherwise incredibly inspiring time with my beloved women. And there it was, clear as day: it might have been the holiday I wanted, but not the one I needed.

What I needed (rather painfully) was to take myself out of the equation. Make no decisions whatsoever, and do nothing. Actively and intentionally. And you simply cannot do that in a city that perpetually asks you to choose what coffee and pastry shop to try today, and despite being three cinnamon buns in, you still get that nagging feeling you should be doing more, trying more, feeling more... No, I needed to be out of options, completely.

An opportunity came in July, when I headed to Crete, and I was determined to just rest. But... maybe I could catch up with my Bookreads reading goal, journal, close some tabs on my phone, go to the gym to continue prep for that September 10k... However, the moment I sat on the beach and looked out on the Aegean Sea, I no longer craved any of those things.

I spent the first three days staring blankly into the distance and feeling no urge to do anything.

The void simply swallowed me whole.

What I would otherwise consider time lost was in fact a loss of many other things but time: the persistent brain fog, the gut-churning sense of urgency, the heart-sinking feeling of being accountable to someone, and most of all, of having to be somewhere, were all but gone. My mind was silent.

Upon coming back to Paris, I am determined to adopt a new mental health protocol. Firstly, I note any leftover stress (I have this annoying ability to hold onto the stress even if the issue is resolved and forgotten) and let it go. Then, I spend extended periods of time...extended. On the sofa, on my bed, on the floor. Just staring into the void.

And surprisingly, that delicious feeling of presence is persisting, bringing along the sort of boredom that makes me so creative.

(If I forget this formula in the future, I give all of you the right to kick me right in the shin.)