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I’ve been wracking my brains for some time what would make a good entry. I suppose I could write one of those ‘what I did on my vacation’ entries. Today is Father’s Day, so I could drag him on stage and write about him. 16 June is Bloomsday which gives me the opportunity to write about James Joyce.  Alas none of these sound too interesting. I suspect I have done these before anyway. 

It’s rainy and rawther cold here this morning in Milwaukee WI. Brother #2 is asleep in the deep. He’s come off of a ten day night shift and valiantly trying to stay awake and entertain me but it’s no such luck. Until he wakes today about noon I am on my own. 

Being alone in an apartment with nothing do on a rainy day first sounds dull and  confining, but when was the last time you had nothing to do? I have books to read and as much cheese curds as I please. My flight isn’t until 5PM. I could spend the entire day here reading. I could even sleep the afternoon away.  

I’ve come to the conclusion being busy is a merit badge no longer worth pursuing as a sign of Eagle scout status. Somewhere is the past fifty years relaxation and indolence got dirty reputations. Nowadays if you are not continually running amok then there is something wrong with you. You must be a loser, a bum, or someone without inspiration. Last Friday at work I had several no-shows just timed I had nothing to do for two hours.  At first I felt bad I was just sitting there with nothing to do; something must be wrong. Word’s out I’m a quack or something. What will me boss say?  I used the opportunity to try some meditation and sitting still. It wasn’t too difficult and it was quite pleasant. Yesterday Brother #2 and I had no agenda but made it up as we went along. At one point he asked me what I wanted next to do and my answer was to go home and take a nap before dinner, which we did. 

“How are you?” is often responded to with a ‘Oh, I’ve been busy”. Rather than admire this, I am now shaking my head as if they has just announced their car has died and replying “Gee that’s too bad”.  Being busy strikes me as mere existing, an attempt to stay afloat rather than drowning.  I will let thems obsessed with being busy run by.  Now that I’ve had a taste of quiet stillness I will have another scoop soon and often. 

Solitude 1

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