Niksen

Oct 21, 2020

Close to tears all day. The muscle pains tremor through me – wave after wave. In defiance I get my to do list an work my through it. A few tasks are scratched off quickly. Others migrate from week to week. I long to see the whole list scores through. The radio is on as I prepare lunch and my ears prick up to Jeremy Vine interviewing an author of a book about ‘doing nothing’. In Dutch this translates to ‘Niksen’. I’m intrigued by this concept. Her interview isn’t that great to be honest and I am feeling for Jeremy as all of his researched questions are deflected or disagreed with. I will share this with you. I love this show. I have often thought wistfully about appearing on it being interviewed for some great accomplishment. I have never been that smart, or clever or articulate. But I have wanted to be!! Maybe one day, I will get the chance to talk about cancer and how you have to learn to co-exist with it.

Anyway – he holds it together as the total professional he is (I did vote for him on Strictly too by the way!), and then he plays 60 seconds of bird song, so his loyal listeners can entertain the notion of doing nothing. To be still and do absolutely nothing.

The birdsong laps my kitchen walls and yet I continue doing what I was doing. Something. Not nothing. I fail! She argues that it is perfectly OK – and more importantly healthy for us to blank out parts of our day ‘Niksen’. It seems doing nothing is exactly that. No TV. No phone. No to do lists. Just nothing. Sitting or standing – either – but not doing anything else.

It hit me what actually doing nothing means. And I don’t ever do this. The only time I have ever done nothing is when I have had chemo. I’ve sat motionless on the sofa, in bed, in the garden and on the floor. No phone, no tasks. I hit the realization that to me doing nothing means feeling unwell and not in control of the chemo onslaught that ensues this.

No wonder then, that doing nothing is something I readily avoid and dismiss. It carries with it such negative connotations. But hearing this today, I am thinking I need to reconsider and challenge this perspective.

I set myself a challenge.

Could I do nothing for 10 minutes? What would that feel like? If chemo wasn’t judging me? If I felt well/OK could I sit and literally do absolutely nothing t all – no books, cat, journal, laptop, i phone, or Amazon. I’m anxious at the thought of it so I examine those feelings. It is clear I am responding to this challenge this way for a reason. I’m avoiding something and I think it’s the space that nothing may bring. The space where something/feelings exist that will only make themselves known if the busy-ness and chaos of my life slow and move aside.

I need to do this. If I can find time to mark an assignment or listen to a client, I should be able to find time for me.

What about you? Can you stop and do nothing? If not, what are you avoiding? Scared of?

How would doing nothing feel to you?