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“I loaf and invite my soul, I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.” – Walt Whitman
Alright Walt, that sounds fine and dandy there, but I have no time to loaf. I’m a busy guy. I’m a “I need more than 24 hours in a day to get stuff done” kind of dude. I have things to attend to, capisce? I’m not a type-A personality, but certainly not a C student of life, so stop lollygagging by the stream there, dust the dirt from your smoking jacket and get something done.
Of course my conversation is a little bit theatrical. I mean, Walt’s dead and I don’t know if he owns a smoking jacket, so maybe this chat is really towards me, or the idea of loafing about. It all sounds like a pipe dream, this loafing – sort of like when people in the grocery store express line really have less than 16 items and no one is counting pennies. A real doozy of a dream. But the idea of loafing about seems completely antithetical to what we are supposed to do or be…as members of society and as recovered / recovering alcoholics.
I say that because we are conditioned to be busy bodies. Work is seen as a noble endeavour. Work, in all manifestations of the word, is focused, positive and productive. At least that is what is portrayed. We work at our jobs, we work at making our homes nicer, we work at getting thinner / healthier / prettier, we work at our recovery. Work, work, work. Put the spotlight on the workaholic and watch the accolades fly. It’s an acceptable way to escape – work. No one dies from working too hard, right? (Oh wait, the Japanese have a word for that – karoshi).

So what’s this idea of idling about, like teens at the mall (do they still do that? I’m caught in a John Hughes life here). What’s the benefit of whittling away time, like some hobo on the boxcars? What’s the point of just milling about, petting the cats and watching reality TV when there are a million and one things to be taken care of?
Look, they tell us that recovery is work. They tell us that if we put in even 50% of the work in recovery that we put into drinking, we’re on solid ground. They tell us that sobriety doesn’t just happen – it’s something we foster and build towards.
“It’s a process, not an event.”
“It works if you work it.”
“Do the work.”
“Are you working on your sobriety today?”
And you know, it is work in many ways. I had to work at this thing I have now, and continue to be vigilant in my recovery and spiritual life so that I maintain my emotional fitness and not come undone by the slightest wind or Katy Perry song (sorry, I just can’t deal with her).
But allow me to let you in on a little secret. Something that has taken me time to understand. Something that has taken me off the hook countless times. And that is this: sometimes it’s okay to do…nothing. You heard me. Nothing. It’s alright to do nothing. Heresy! Blasphemy! Off thee to a nunnery with such foul words stinging thy tongue like angry honey bees! This is a first world nation, and we need to do everything all the time. No one gets plaques on the wall for being the best loafer of the month.

When I got hurt running not too long ago, the best piece of advice I got was from a guy at work, a fellow runner who was also injured, who said “ah – just put your feet up and eat some chips.” THAT was his sage advice. What do you mean just put my feet up? I’m hurt and that means I need to work at healing, don’t you know? I need to do stretches, exercises, heat baths, cold compresses, shock therapy, massage, etc. I will not sit idle like some slovenly daydreamer at the bus station and not do anything about this.
Well, guess what? That’s pretty much all I could do. Idle. Sure I did some of those helpful measures, but in the end it was really about doing nothing. Sometimes, the best action or response to a problem is to do nothing. Restrain of pen and tongue perhaps. Perhaps not say what’s on my mind. Not make that amend as I would hurt them at my expense. Perhaps allow someone their pain so that they can learn from a situation. Perhaps just let things unfold as the Universe would have it, rather than have my ego dictate something that isn’t meant to be.
As they say, the doctor puts the cast on, God does the healing. I can’t will myself to do certain things. Sometimes I need to open up the space for things to come to me. And that space often comes in the form of not taking an action. Of quiet contemplation. Of picking at the lint of a sweater while staring at the stars. Of putting my damn feet up and picking at some Doritos (extra spicy, please, and a napkin for those orange fingers I inevitably will get.) Sometimes it’s about what I don’t do as opposed to what I want to do that gets me the right result.

The hardest thing to do in my recovery was doing nothing. Sometimes my sponsor would tell me to go see a movie, to stop working on my recovery. An old-timer told me to just sit for 10 minutes daily, not meditating, but just think of something that makes me happy. Contemplation. I’ve been told countless times to relax and take it easy. I’ve been counselled often in my early recovery to just take some down time – go for a walk, or do a crossword puzzle. Take a breather. Chill the F-out. And this was very difficult for me to do. I was a man of action. Which is strange to say, because as an active alcoholic, I rarely got much done. Booze kills ambition, don’t you know? Paradoxical voodoo stuff.
So the idea of letting my sword and hair down and just being was a tough pill to swallow. The fact remained that I was afraid to not do anything because that meant I had to be with me in all ways. I didn’t have that distraction or energy focused on something else. It was just me with me and I didn’t like that Match.com pairing. I’ve spent my whole life trying to break up with myself and now you’re hitching us up for good? I don’t like that deal. Odd Couple stuff, but without the hijinks. And yet, it was just me. So doing things made me feel more productive, but really what I was doing was escaping facing that man in the mirror. The one I used to spit on.
Puttering about, as hard as it has been for me to do, has given me many benefits. I get recharged. Solutions to problems come to me out of the blue. I get a new perspective on things. I feel more connected to the Creator. I come to others in a new way. I see the world slightly different than when I am in work mode. I get some joy. And this is where play comes into the picture (that’s another topic, but suffice to say that there are those who see play as our ultimate goal in life.) Play, in all manifestations of the word, is where we are closest to our Maker. When I am at rest, when I am quiet and still, when I am focused on the unfocused, that is when the spirit visits me. That is where I am met at a deeper level. I am more whole in the something of my nothingness.

In running circles, the Ethiopians and Kenyans are considered to top in the world. Countless books and documentaries have been done on them. And one of the reasons they are so good at running is not so much their conditioning, or training or their physical attributes. It’s rest. They rest. A lot. They don’t work – they are taken in / subsidized by family and friends. So they run. Then they rest. That’s it. Rest is where muscles rebuild. Rest is where strength is constructed. Rest is where the mind empties and refocuses for the next task. Rest is where the real healing comes. One of the top runners refers to sleep as his “business meetings”. There is nobility in rest in some parts of the world. We don’t see it that way. And that’s a shift that I am learning to take.
Religions and spiritual leaders all speak of some sort of rest and respite. A time to (re)connect. A time to be with family or others. A time to pull the curtain on the world and be in solitude and peace. There is a reason for this and in our recovery, this is vital. We have strayed from our authentic self for so long, the only way to discover ourselves is in the times where we are just sitting with ourselves. In park, engine shut off. Sitting on the beach thinking of nothing and everything. Walking in the park. Watching the kids play. Playing Angry Birds (that’s just me.) Meditating. Staring at lighting in wonder. Doesn’t sound like something you’d put on a resume, but it’s important stuff. Critical to our sobriety.
It’s taken me time to enjoy and look forward to unstructured time. I do get caught up in the idea that every moment of my time needs to be formatted, allotted and planned. I do get my days where I will tell my wife “I did nothing today!”, in a fit, upset I didn’t get things done, and she will reply “Good!”. So she reminds me too that it’s okay not to be constantly busy. When I have my moments of nothing, I realize just how important they are. They are the water to the fire. The stillness to the maelstrom. The thought to the action. The answer to the question.

Look, if you’re new to this recovery thing, be forewarned – it is work. We have to shift our ways of perceiving the world, we have to move away from a lifestyle that once served us but no longer does, we have to do some self-examination as to why we reached for the bottle. We are shifting so many things – our physical, emotional, mental and spiritual lives. Some of us hit meetings, do service, read and write. Go to therapy. We meet with others, make phone calls, help other newcomers. But sometimes we need to put on the breaks – take time to be with ourselves, to lift our eyes towards the other things in life, to look at the big picture.
And as time passes, you will see that the holes that alcoholism once punched in our lives heal with some down time, time with our selves, time with the Universe. Like that injury to my leg, the best thing I could do was nothing. Time takes time, as they say, and those Whitman-like moments are the ones that will be stamped on my spirit, rather than the hectic day-to-day that tends to dominate me.
So for today – chillax. Slow down a bit. Take a moment to find something that brings a smile to your face. Breathe. Find that momentary oasis that will iron out the wrinkles of your day. It’s worth it.
It works if you don’t work it.

I really enjoyed reading this, it really resonated with me. Thanks for posting!
Good timing with this one. I just mentioned this past week that I was too busy/distracted to do any of my self-harming behaviors, but as boredom creeps back in I face that temptation again. It’s another part of my life that I have to shift to work with me in the different recovery periods I am in right now.
Thanks as always for your words and wisdom ((hugs))
learning, early on, that we are not in control is crucial…it takes a lot of sitting back and watching to truly see that. Little Miss Busy misses so much.
Love this Paul….much needed
Very good post Paul, those self critical moments that scream at me, “YOU ARE BEING LAZY!!!” I have to keep reminding myself that that pain in the toches voice has its place and time, and its time ain’t everytime I take a breather, this is where the slogan easy does it comes into play. God ain’t just in the storm, He is best perceived in those quiet moments where I ain’t thinking, talking or doing, just laid back and listening to nothing but Him.
Oh man…this is the hardest thing for me to do…nothing. I can’t take the guilt! This needs doing or that needs doing and here I sit on my fat rump not doing it. Oh yeah…that reminds me…I should be exercising as well!
But you’re right about one thing, when I do take the time to actually do NOTHING I feel so much better later. That’s when I truly recharge.
Thanks Paul – a great reminder.
Sherry
Hey there buddy!! I’ve been absent from hardcore social media lately and I’m laughing because I am chilling with a sleeping kid on my lap and decided to read your most recent post. Funny enough…I JUST put a post up yesterday about how I’m sick of dramatically telling people how “busy” I am like I had nothing to do with creating the chaos and it just MAGICALLY appeared before me. Hahahaha…so I’m losing the glorified “busy” and going for a little more balance. Maybe we should start a #BanBusy campaign. 😉 Oh, and side note…I finally broke down and reluctantly bought sneakers (I’ve got a few runs under my belt, or um, under my sneakers). Nice to connect!!!
Paul, I’m starting to wonder if we share the same brain. Are we like Michael (God rest his soul) and Janet Jackson, where we can’t be in the same room together?
We think the same, but your ability to string words together to create this beautiful tapestry… well, I am in awe, as I have said before. Well written, and great melding of ideas.
In terms of kicking back, you’ve hit the nail on the head. It drives me bonkers, the people that talk endlessly of how busy they are, as if there is a competition and the busiest person wins.
It’s okay to do nothing are the words I will carry with me, and after the kids have been run around, that is exactly what I intend to do!
Oh, and PS… what the WHAT on the top picture. Is that for real? A real band? Why are those two shirtless men grabbing that old woman’s hands like that? They look like they are restraining her, and she looks like she is in pain. I just may have nightmares about these three tonight…
Haha! Cracking up over the Janet/Michael comment 🙂
Dude, how much chillaxing d’ya reckon the Boys Town Gang would bring on? That’s some serious self-confidence going on with that album cover!
Good stuff, as per. Respect Paul
I feel busy, but with not much to show for it. Busy running in circles? Procrastinating? Playing candy crush? (That’s my time suck.) And I am tired of my self perpetuated busy-ness and know something’s gotta give. I’m just starting to noodle it through, so your post came at a perfect time. Interesting fun fact on the Kenyans too!
So great, Paul. This really speaks to me. I am driven, Type A – and this is a hard one for me. I am coming to that realization for the summer, too – that it is okay not to have every minute scheduled to make the most of it- even if it is leisure time. It’s okay to go with the flow. I am definitely not good at that!! lol So thanks for confirming what I know I need to make room in my life for!
PS – Love the Whitman poem that comes from! (That’s where my blog title comes from). Whitman was a little wacky, lol…but he got a few things right.
What step is stop and relax? I feel like Sherry, guilty when just sitting. It comes from being called lazy and worthless when not doing something productive during my formative years. So now I run myself into the ground, IPod in my ears so I don’t have to spend time in my head.
This was a great message. I will have to ponder this, once I get the garden done, the front door painted….: (
I seriously need a pedicure but am arguing with myself about the time it will take, and if I can fit in a run if i do it…blah blah.
I need an off switch. I never had one while drinking nor do I now.
*raises hand
Guilty as charged. Just reading about resting made me itchy. You ‘work’ at recovery and I ‘work’ at being worthy enough for whatever. I’m a happy girl…maybe happier everyday, but I can NOT sit still. It’s annoying and unhealthy.
Thank you (as always) for a relevant post and for making me stop to pause, think…and rest 🙂
I’m trying to just be. To not be working to fix or change something about myself.
To find self acceptance in my life as it is today.
It is harder than it sounds. To just relax with the knowledge that things are as they should be. That all is well right now. In the moment.
Hey Cookie
Happy Saturday !!!!
Are you enjoying your present?
Hi Paul! I’m not dead! haha. Doing nothing is my worst enemy… maybe that is why I don’t get many things done, because I overwhelm myself with to-do lists, and stuff i have to be doing.
This concept is actually genious! How are you? I miss you, recovery friend.
I am sending you lots of love!
Hey Paul, I’m not dead either, which is probably more amazing than Erika not being dead. But I don’t really know that. Erika could be one gnarly, death-defying woman. One that makes my stunts look downright kiddie-klown in comparison.
Be that as it may. Neither of us being dead is pretty good. You too. Grateful you’re not dead.
(is that an okay thing to say? Somehow seems wrong. Well-intentioned, but a wee awkward. I’ll work on something else)
Anyway, I would love to graft some of your busy-bee genomes onto my dangling DNA strands. My sloth can make The Dude look downright Type-A. Seriously. Hillbillies with Lyme’s disease, who rip bong loads, chip heroin, and chew benzos like Tums, have more pep in their step.
I don’t know if having limitless inertia could be considered a super power, but I’ve got plenty. Enough to make the entire city of Milwaukee stop what they’re doing and stare vacantly–for an entire three-day week-end.
That’s why when I saw that chapter, Into Action, my gut sunk.
“Looks like we’re not staying sober, buddy.” That’s what I really told myself. But then I did that asking my Higher Power to propel me thing and yadah yah. No worries.
Now here’s where you and I converge again. Even though I can loaf and putter like…like if there was a Greek god of that, I still struggle with being okay with it. Get me in a hammock on a cruise ship and you will notice that my foot is still tapping. I’d be thinking “I should be building a shed, instead.” Even though I have no need for a shed. Or capacity to build one. But I’d be bludgeoning myself over the fact anyway.
“Yeah, this is nice, but I really need to be working on a shed.”
Or starting my own stem-cell research facility. Or strip-club laundromat. Or any of my other genius, and highly practical, ideas.
So while I’m lazing around physically, I’m still wound up inside. It’s the worst of both worlds. Don’t get anything done but still stress out.
When I remember to pray for help, to help me relax and enjoy my stillness, it works. I just forget to. A lot.
But I’m not going to pray for help with that. I’ve got this. I’m going to force myself to remember.
I’ll keep you posted on how it’s working.
If I remember to.
I thought about this (brilliant) article tonight, when my friend Liz lead the meeting. She was talking about how she’d gotten so obsessed with cross-fit, that she was leaving her program by the wayside. Then she had to get an operation for appendicitis. Which cut the cross-fitting way down. She also got some new sponcees. At just this very time.
Weird.
And she didn’t have to do anything. Because appendicitis.
What a gift.
Shit. I was going to talk about the “it works if you don’t work it,” part, because that’s an f-ing gold mine, Jerry, but I’ve gone way over my 3 to 4 minutes. Again. Sorry sorry.
Uh, wrapping up, I’d just like to say…everything Paul said. And now I’ve asked another alcoholic to read either A Vision for You or The Promises, and then lead us out in a prayer of their choice.
Hope your hoof is healing,
love you to pieces,
B.T.G. for life.
Marius
PS. I’m really digging this wallpaper you picked out. Very Jetson’s acid trippy. I love it. Oh and square wheel murdered.
`’It was just me with me`’ … I have spent a lot of my life running from that one. I loved this post, really resonated with me. You articulate ideas so well. I think this was kind of what I was trying to say when I posted “Green spaces for the soul” (http://moretomethanthis.wordpress.com/2014/06/25/green-spaces-for-the-soul/) talking about the unstructured gaps in an over-scheduled life and how important they were for me, but I hadn’t really appreciated the way rest and healing coming into the equation, too. You are so right about the way our society / culture dismisses the importance, the necessity of rest. Bonkers. Sometimes I castigate myself for needed rest, telling myself that I *shouldn’t* be tired. How mad is that? Like being tired without sufficient reason / exertion is a moral failing. I need my “moments of nothing”, my moments for being with just me – they are as important for my soul as veggies and protein and exercise are for my body – and without them, I start spinning off course, emotionally. Thanks for the post 🙂 xxx
I’m in the resting phase lately. *yawn* In fact, when something is weighing on my mind, I’m more inclined to do nothing than try to figure it out. Not so in early sobriety for me. Life was a puzzle and I was going to solve it. Life is still a puzzle but it’s amazing how many of the pieces will fall into place if we let them. 🙂
So true, Karen, me too. Plus I don’t feel like I have to be the person fixing everything anymore either. Hey, if someone else wants to do something or help me now, I’m all for it! I’ve come a long way from the control-freak, do everything myself person I used to be. Thank goodness!
It definitely pays to take time to sharpen the saw. Not sure where I heard that parable, sounds like a Covey thing, but spending all day trying to chop down a tree won’t do you a bit of good if you’re blade is dull. Instead of spending 8 hours with a dull axe, spend two hours sharpening and one hour chopping.
The Dude and White Russians. Ah the good ole days. 🙂
Perfect post for me to read today. Thank you Paul! Your words always bring a smile to my face. Today is Saturday and I’m going to read and nap. I’ve seen you mention Angry Birds a few times lately, so enjoy doing some of that 🙂
Love that last shot. =)
Ok, so my mind put up a shield against this post, though this strand made it through:
“I was afraid to not do anything because that meant I had to be with me in all ways.” Keen, Paul.
If only I lived what I know. I know the universe runs in cycles of greater activity and less. I know even God rested and commands that we do as well, and His injunctions are our utmost good. I know my husband is obeying the simple wisdom of his body in that sweet nap he takes after hours of busyness with our son. But — but. But I have my reasons A-Z why I keep going, going, going. In a fierce battle for time, I believe in productivity, efficiency – hec, I call it all good stewardship of the sacred resource called time.
Sigh. I am
tired.
LOL.
It would drive me crazy to have to (notice, not be allowed to) just put my feet up. Of course I’ll manage to write if I had to do that.
After a long day at work this post was incredibly refreshing! I’m a great advocate for il dolce far niente!! Thanks 🙂 Namaste!
I love how content you seem. 🙂
Boy Paul that was work! Just to get to the point of letting ourselves do nothing, ever we ever do do nothing, is work. Or a practice. Life is as hard as we make it, when drunk we made it most difficult. I recovery we try to work at working it. Yet there does come a time that we need to join old Walt in the field and the blade of grass. To watch the clouds drift by, to stop being busy and being busy.
Anyway thanks for working so hard to write this blog about taking time off. I think you might some. LOL
It’s all good my friend! Keep coming back!