Just nothing

So, I have two young sons. And the type of personality where I always have to be doing something. I have to have a goal. I need to accomplish things. Then I look for the next thing to do.

I keep busy.

That's why, today, I am proud of myself for doing nothing. For two whole hours.

The boys and I walked through the park.



We pointed out squirrels, birds and dogs pacing alongside their jogging humans.

"Want to go on an adventure?" the Man-cub asked me.

"I love adventures!" I told him. "We'll always have adventures."

And so I let the Junebug wander as he may, crawling and pulling up.



Eventually he wandered back to me.



Strangely, the Man-cub didn't feel the pull of the playground and stayed near me. We lay on a blanket and looked up at the trees.





We ate snacks and talked about nothing in particular. The boys wiggled, squirmed and hopped. The blanket got messy.



We inspected a mushroom. The Man-cub found a tiny seashell. We imagined a hidden universe under our feet.



The most amazing thing happened: nobody whined or cried or complained about anything! We were all perfectly at peace.

Time passes slowly when you have nothing to do. And I'm grateful for it.




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