Choose Nothing

It’s 2 o’clock on a Saturday.

The weather is precisely perfect.

A brown dog lies next to my feet.

I’m sitting on the porch.

Our house is silently astir

with quiet activity.

Two big kids have succumbed to the call of the woods

and I love that they are escaping together.

I think they will emerge when they are hungry enough.

There’s a creator kid with a cardboard box

and a bevy of markers.

She has an idea

and the gift of time.

Today is good.

I don’t have to be anywhere

or do anything.

If it’s been too long since this has been true of you –

you might need to step off

The Crazy.

Turn in your notice from the job of

Too Busy

and speak the word you’ve forgotten how to say —

“No.”

It’s okay if you have to schedule a

Nothing Day.

If you have to literally type it into your digital calendar or scratch it on your old school paper and ink calendar.

All of our lives can get crowded in the bat of any eye and in the nod of a head.

Push the chaos out of the door.

Nothing Days are magical.

Necessary.

You hear the cackling of an unknown bird on a branch

and your brain

unwinds.

Vitamin D splashes across your ankles

and it’s like a slow warmth

right up to the weary hairs on your head.

If you need to pen it in –

do that now.

If life isn’t handing you the opportunities to Choose Peace,

do it anyway.

Overcome the distractions to reach the other side.

Of course you cannot live here eternally – in the Saturday afternoon.

It’s for refueling that you visit the Nothing Days.

It’s for recharging.

For pouring back out,

you must be filled.

It will seldom happen accidentally.

Peace will seldom find you in the chaos.

You must seek peace.

Pursue it.

Let the dappled light fall across the porch and cover you and the day in all its dappled simple glory.

Find yourself at rest.

Renewed and alert

and thankful.