Most of the time we are always doing something. Working, sleeping, watching, reading, eating, talking, walking, et cetera. There’s always something to do, somewhere to go, somewhere to be, someone to meet, something of great or minor necessity to do. Imagine writing every single thing you did in a single week. By the weekend you might feel like you did absolutely nothing all week, or perhaps nothing of significance, of great importance, but nevertheless, it fills out.
Which is why lately, I’ve found the concept of meditation a bit curious.
Just sitting and doing absolutely nothing. Thinking of absolutely nothing.
I really don’t even know if it’s humanly possible to do that anymore.
Enlightenment is so bogged down by all this distortion, this white noise, this mental tendency to be constantly occupied with something, anything, that I wonder if it’s possible to achieve.
This preoccupation with doing things to the extent of being agitated when doing nothing.
All this is made even more ironic when you consider that often times people will ask if we’re doing anything or planning to do anything or if we’re up to anything, and often we respond with “nothing”.
For once, I’d like that to be true.