If I told you that I love you,
That I care for you,
That I want what's best for you,
It might seem odd,
Maybe overly solicitous or just plain sappy.
I mean,
I don't even know you,
Not personally,
But I do know you in a general sort of way.
I've been active in various movements for ecological sanity and environmental justice for a long time now.
I've seen how activists give of themselves and give and give and give.
As we engage in this work of giving,
One thing I've learned for sure is that we have to take care of ourselves.
I've looked for ways to support our health and well-being.
So in a kind of abstract and universal sense,
I do want what's best for you.
I do want you to engage in effective self-care.
Even though we may never have met,
I'm out here rooting for you,
And that looks a lot like love to me.
So I'd like to invite you to take a break,
A real break,
From whatever you've been doing.
If at all possible,
If it makes sense,
You might want to be outside,
Perhaps in what Stephen Harding refers to as your Gaia place.
I'd like to be in the backyard,
For example,
Or in the park,
But for the purposes of this recording,
I've retreated to an upstairs room,
Wherever you are.
Please take a moment to get comfortable,
To set aside any tasks you may have at hand.
It may be best to sit up straight with an erect spine.
You can close your eyes or keep them open.
Let's just sit together for a few moments,
Doing nothing.
That was the space of a few breaths,
Maybe about a minute by the clock.
Did it feel longer to you?
Let's do it again.
And by doing it,
Of course,
I mean doing nothing,
Nothing to do in this moment,
Nothing to achieve,
Nothing to accomplish.
There's no right way of doing this,
No wrong way of doing this,
Because of course we're not doing anything.
It seems like it should be the easiest thing in the world,
Doing nothing.
If it feels hard or difficult somehow,
In some way,
That might be because our culture seems to value keeping busy,
Even if it's just a superficial busyness.
We know that rest has real value.
Sometimes even rest can seem like a lot of work.
So many prerequisites and conditions that have to be met before we can rest.
And whatever you do to relax,
You're still doing something,
Still engaging in some activity.
What if we just take a break from all activity?
What if we take a break just for a little while from all effort?
What if we simply do nothing for a bit?
Nothing to do in this moment,
Nothing to achieve,
Nothing to accomplish,
No right way,
No wrong way.
Of course,
It's absurd.
We're always doing something.
Right now,
We're breathing.
We're sitting.
I assume you're sitting.
If not,
I invite you to sit down now,
Take a moment,
Get comfortable.
Sitting and breathing,
These seem to form a minimal baseline of activity,
Kind of hard to avoid.
We can't really do nothing.
It would be more accurate to say that we're doing close to nothing.
And as we are physically doing close to nothing,
We might feel close to nothingness.
Physical space is mostly overwhelmingly empty.
Everything around us,
All the diverse ecosystems that comprise Gaia,
It's all a dance of processes unfurling in space.
We are a dance of processes unfurling in space,
Even in this stillness.
Now,
There's another kind of activity that's going on.
Even as we're sitting still,
We are undoubtedly thinking thoughts and feeling feelings.
Thinking can be effortful.
Thinking can be a form of doing.
Can we take a break from mental activity as well?
It's tricky.
Trying to stop thinking becomes yet another activity,
Yet another effort,
Yet another doing.
There's no point in sitting here furiously trying to whack down each and every thought that crops up.
Thinking is not an enemy.
We're simply taking a break from all effort.
Instead of trying to stop thinking,
Let's simply stop trying.
Thoughts and feelings will come.
We notice them,
Yes,
But we don't have to follow them.
We can simply observe them.
Observation is our minimal baseline of mental activity.
Thoughts come,
And they go,
And they come again.
And as we bear witness to our thoughts,
We may notice a sense of space,
A little sensation of spaciousness around our thoughts.
We might notice there's a sort of field of awareness in which these thoughts and feelings arise.
We might notice a little space between ourselves and our thoughts,
Between mind and thought.
We might start to realize that we are not our thoughts.
We have thoughts.
We observe them.
They may be wonderful or terrible or trivial or very,
Very important,
But we are something more.
You are something more.
Mind is something more.
And as we are mentally doing close to nothing,
We might feel,
Again,
Close to nothingness.
And yet,
This nothingness is not exactly nothing,
But awareness itself.
Not exactly empty,
But containing everything.
How are you feeling about all this?
Maybe this is blissful or fearful or perplexing or completely boring.
Whatever we're feeling,
There's no need to struggle with it or work with it.
It simply is what we're feeling,
The reality of this moment,
Another sensation arising in the field of consciousness.
And notice,
In this field of conscious,
Open awareness,
It's always here.
It's always been here,
Whether we're aware or not,
Because it is awareness itself.
Kind of funny,
Right?
And if we find it refreshing to take a break,
To simply dwell in awareness,
That's always available.
We're always already doing it.
We may only need to slow down a bit,
To relax a bit,
To become aware of our awareness.
I'd like to close with an invitation to gratitude.
Thank you for listening to me.
More than that,
Thank yourself for taking the time to listen,
For allowing yourself to take a break,
To engage in self-care,
To take some time,
Not for more doing,
But for simply being.
Just a little time to rest in awareness,
A little time doing nothing at all,
Or close to nothing.
