The Art of Doin' Nothin'

Ah, it’s nice to be dual fisted again. Two thumbs up, in fact. It’s crazy how humbling a month in a hand bandage can be. I’m not usually one to ask for help on mundane tasks, but buttoning shirts and tying shoes apparently requires to opposable thumbs, so I had no choice. Here’s a tip for my home girls just in case any of you are considering carpel tunnel release surgery; the hardest thing to accomplish with only five fingers is hooking and un-hooking your bra. Good thing my husband was more than delighted to offer his hand(s) up to help me out.

While I was convalescing, I couldn’t mouse or type very well either. This presented a challenge because, as a court recorder for the Federal court system, I spend about 75% of my time at work on a computer. I was useless, so I took some time off to study the art of doin’ nothin’.

The art of doin’ nothin’, it turns out, is not as painful as I had thought it might be. I’m a doer, always on the go. On the rare occasions when I sit down to read a magazine or watch a taped episode of the Real Housewives of [fill in the blank], a schizophrenic-like voice almost always whispers in my ear “hey, you - yeah, you…what do ya think yer doin? You can’t just sit there. Do some laundry, or take the dogs for a walk. Break out that Scrabble Jr. game n’ challenge them little chickens of yours to a game or two. And, by the way, do ya think dinner is going to start itself?”

So understandably, I was worried when I realized just how crippled I was after my surgery. I was deep into my mandatory self-imposed rest period, and hyper-frustrated at my lack of abilities, when I stumbled upon an appropriately time magazine article that changed my whole perspective. The article was titled “10 ways to enjoy doing nothing.” I am sharing the 10 best suggestions I’ve heard so far this year with you….

“Banish the guilt.” Did you know that Europeans in the Middle Ages felt no shame for lolling about?

“Choose the right role models.” Most great musicians and poets were idlers. So there.

“Sketch a flower.” Bring some divine contemplation into your life.

“Go bumbling.” Bumbling means to wander around without purpose. I never knew that had a name, but now I love to bumble about.

“Play the ukulele.” The ukulele is the sound of not working.

“Bring back Sundays.” Apparently, before my time, Sundays were embraced as a day of rest. Who knew?

“Lie in a field.” Listen to the birds and smell the grass.

“Gaze at the clouds.” Do this while executing #7

“Take a nap.” I still have a lot of trouble with this one. The truth is I’ve always thought naps were for wimps. There’s something so weak about an adult taking a nap. I did notice however that, after a little afternoon snooze, I didn’t fall asleep in the middle of our customary Saturday night Netflix movie. Go figure.

“Pretend to meditate.” Thinking without fear of disapproval. I love this one – It’s like having permission from the teacher to stare out the window during class.

Sadly, my month of studying the art of doin’ nothin’ is now over. Except for the itchy, 2-inch scar on my right palm, my hand is mostly back to normal. And my multi-tasking, monkey mind ways are back to normal too. I think only some hardcore therapy could help me really change my ways, but at least I came out of this with some new skills in my bag o’ tricks. One never knows when bumbling or gazing at clouds or strumming the ukulele will come in handy. I’m sure they will someday. I’ll be sure to let you know.