After the hustle and bustle of the holidays, it’s nice to enjoy a little less hustle.
It’s more than nice.
It’s downright blissful.
Maybe this is middle age or the escalated carb intake talking, but, right now, nothing makes me happier than, well, nothing.
More specifically, doing nothing.
And, judging from the results of a highly technical survey I recently conducted (i.e. friends, family and strangers at the grocery store), doing nothing these days is, quite possibly, the best gift of all.
I think of the cartoon that depicts a couple standing at the end of a rainbow next to a golden pot with the words “Baked Beans” painted on it.
“Quite frankly,” says the man to the woman, “I’m a bit disappointed.”
This year – 2008 – was a bit disappointing, wasn’t it?
Sure, if you look closely, beyond our country’s economic free fall, escalating national debt, ongoing global fill-in-the-blank war/warming/financial crisis, we can find pockets of hope.
Paris Hilton hasn’t been in the news for the past 48 hours.
And, joy of all joys, I finally figured out how to de-frag my computer.
I feel so Bill Gate-ish.
Some happiness and progress took place this past year, but goodness gracious, it was hard earned.
A friend cautioned me not to wish a year away; however, I’m ready for something new.
So, I’m tweaking my expectations for my new year’s resolutions.
I’m not making any. (See how fun doing nothing can be?)
This was a tough decision.
Those who know me know I am a list maker.
I’m the one whose mantra is “Order breeds serenity.” (Husband, quash thine urge to add “and insanity, too.”)
Lists make me happy.
Some women read fashion magazines, I pour over the latest Franklin Covey catalog.
Jimmy Choos ain’t got nothin’ on the latest day planner.
Stillettos versus Palm Pilot? No brainer.
Still, a curious thing happened on the way to maximum efficiency: life.
While I can tick away a few cherished personal and professional accomplishments realized this past year – admittedly, due most likely to some degree of organized focus – I’d like to explore a different path.
Something more fluid, less structured.
I believe, and perhaps you, do, too, we have entered a time in which we may all be better served by welcoming a little more fluidity in our lives.
Resolutions infer expectations no matter what Oprah says. Once, after going on a self-help reading binge, I taped my resolutions to my bathroom mirror. Three months later after too much shower moisture, my list was droopy and withered, a metaphor if there ever was one.
This reminds me of the fortune teller who cautioned, “Don’t get your hopes up. The future isn’t what it used to be.”
After collapsing on the couch the night of Christmas with no future agenda in sight, I asked my husband what was his favorite moment of the day.
He replied, “This.”
I couldn’t agree more.
s on our country.
