On a morning, not that long ago, I was lying awake in bed. Worrying about how to master the Art of Doing Nothing. Ruminating over and over again about how I just could not do nothing. I just couldn’t imagine what that would entail. I still have a hard time at it. Sitting and staring at nothing for 16 hours a day? Twiddling your thumbs? Drinking endless cups of tea (and frequently sprinting to the bathroom)?
I always thought I like to be alone. Turns out I like to do stuff on my own. Go figure.
After lots of tossing and turning and finally resolving to give up on sleep, I got up. Sitting upright in my bed I saw one of the cats dozing amidst my bedsheets. And it hit me. Cats are the true Masters of Doing Nothing. They sleep, snooze, gaze languidly, yawn, wash themselves, etc. for hours on end. Hours.
So I settled back and tried to be a little more feline. Awkward at first, I soon fell into a meditative gazing at the blankets, enjoying its softness and warmth. Listening to the sounds of my breath and the purring of a cat.
These moments I cherish.
Feline Suchness 