Dolce Far Niente?

We need good rest, and to appreciate the ‘sweetness of doing nothing’.  But pretty soon nothingness gets irritating, and starts to hurt your back.  There is scary proof that it also enables dementia.  The body-mind must move.  So, while I’d like to be able to get away with gazing at the Green Men faces in the trees, and not lose my marbles.  Not possible.  The mind harasses: ‘The hedge needs cut’.  ‘Put on a load of washing’.  ‘Change the bed’. ‘You’re right out of your routine’.  ‘300 words’.  ‘Do you even know what’s in the fridge?’  ‘What about making a list?’

Nothingness overwhelms.

And I noticed I was simmering with anger.

Fortunately, there is also a sweetness in ‘doing’.  Getting one’s house in order.  Nowadays they call it home ‘reset’.  I prefer ‘home blessing’.  Standards must be maintained.  But I have realised I want to reset my life.  Stop feeling responsible for other people’s feelings, their dramas.  Especially family.  We each make our choices; I need to focus on some life-affirming ones for myself.

I went visiting thinking, ‘I’ll keep doing morning yoga, I have the laptop’.  I didn’t do yoga once.  Yesterday felt like I had never started.  I was stiff from driving, but it’s dispiriting nevertheless. 

These last few days have been super-thick haar.  I felt like I couldn’t see my way forward.  I walked, facing it, head on, but just got soaked.  Slowly.   

I don’t need haar, I need a thunder storm.

BT were four-and-a-half hours late to switch broadband, then didn’t even appear in person. Disconnecting the landline without a human being contacting me.  I missed doing yoga waiting for them. 

I was incandescent.

Nothing to do with a stupid landline. 

I do wonder if ranting is aerobic though. 

It is the way I do it.