I must admit that I haven’t had any idea on what to write
on. I usually post one a week, sometimes, 2, when I am alone with myself.
Lately, however, I have been busy surviving. I just got hired a week ago after
being laid off from my work 2 months earlier. During the first week I was in
training. I come home not only physically tired but mentally exhausted. I tried
to think of something to write, something that I feel. But, because I have
determined myself to produce at least one post a week and time was running out
(time did actually run out), I resort to thinking
about what to write. I thought and thought and nothing caught fire.
Then late this morning, I decided to stop thinking, and
began to feel, to observe myself. And there it was. I observed and felt that
while I was focused on work that I took just to pay my bills and put food on
the table, and when I tried to write, nothing comes out; at least, nothing
worthwhile writing about.
In fact, I felt distanced from myself. I was not in touch
with my inner self. My soul, if you like. And, as I spend so much time and effort
focusing on a job, doing my best to keep it from slipping away, the more distant
I am from myself. As I become used to that distance – and I guess like most of
us are - that is, as I become used to being desensitized, the more I neglect to
listen to my inner self. I watch T.V as a means of diverting my attention from
my self.
Come the weekend. You would think I would now have the time
for myself. It should be the case. But the week of work and training had me
crave for the weekend, not so that I could be with and by myself. Weekend, to
me, was the period in which to rest my weary body that has an uncanny effect on
the mind. I felt the emptiness in me, and I’d tried to stay away from it. For
recognizing its presence would force me to come face to face with the emptiness.
It may not be frightening, but it certainly was unpleasant.
But, then, I remembered that I had promised myself to
produce one blog post a week. Weekend ought to be devoted to reflection and
then to transfer my thoughts on ‘paper’ or on the monitor screen. Suddenly, I
panicked. My muscles tightened. My palms were soaked in sweat. I was forcing my
mind to fish for a philosophical thought worth writing about. In the end,
nothing was produced. I would write; but eventually I would just press the ‘Delete’
button. And there I was, falling softly on to my bed as I was more than willing
to be overcome by sleep. That happened for days.
Then one day, ‘something’ in me said: “Slow down, and relax
and don’t think. Then you will settle down” Muscles began to loosen up a bit.
It was pleasant, and the awareness of it made it even more pleasant. And, yes,
peaceful. Suddenly, a thought surfaced: “Maybe that’s what leisure was all
about.”
Leisure is not about passivity. In fact, it is an activity,
but an activity without purpose. You work in
order to get there. But leisure does not need you to get to where you are
not, for the simple fact that you have arrived.
You only had to stop, and to be aware of yourself, listening to your self, to
accept the fact that you have arrived. But arrived to where? Yourself. You have
eliminated the distance between your working self and the inner self.
Hobby, is one example of leisure. You have a hobby not only because
you enjoy it. You enjoy because you are most real, most authentic. There lies
your passion. Just observe the children who play for no utilitarian purpose
except to play and have fun. They instinctively understood the nature of
leisure. It’s only when they grow to adulthood that they have forgotten.
So beware of turning your passion to a money making
business. It will only kill your passion, and you will hate what you loved
most.
So find leisure to find yourself for no other reason or
purpose other than to be yourself. In a busy world such as ours, in which our
organized time determines our schedules, and lives, it is all the more
important to slow down and relax your muscles.
