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The Art of Doing Nothing

26. September 2014

…is the name of a book I bought more than ten years ago, in big bookstore in the downtown of Oslo. This title drew my attention, the simple beautiful photos, the simple way of living. Could that also be me? Today this title came to my mind.
Now I live most of the year in the countryside, my life is much more simple – but I see that it is really an art, because every time an empty space opens, I fill it. What I fill it with has changed a lot since I bought the book. But still the habit of filling is there.
Just now, this evening I turned down my sweet neighbours’ invitation to join them for a fun game night, but I felt my body needed to rest. After ten minutes laying down on my sofa, listening to a quiet song, I open my eyes and look at a plant and see how it stretches itself towards the light of the sunset. I jump up, grab the camera, I want to save it.

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For what? Wasn’t I supposed to rest? The “rest” is over for sure. Was I getting closer to an empty space in my rest and in that space I automatically fill it? Is it really so clear? I start writing.
The art…
I lay down again and try again. Thoughts from what happened today, not so much words, but images of people, of eyes, of smiles, of actions. Then thoughts about tomorrow come. Then after a while I am only watching the breath and then a change in the breathing rhythm happens. It goes deeper, slower. I hear only the music and imagine the whole body is listening to the music. Images come and go, but less thoughts. Feelings come to the surface, one so strong that tears come to my eyes. Love. I’m feeling the energy that moves inside my body. I go deeper.
Then; something stops. I realize when doing nothing – the being appears. And what a feeling, what an absolute luxury of all luxuries to just rest in myself, how can nothing feel so good? I feel like laughing about all doing when doing nothing excels it all!

The next day the woman next door who is packing to leave the valley for the season, knocks on the door, “Hi, I found your book, I borrowed it from your flat in Oslo a long time ago – you want it or shall I bring it back to your flat?” I take the book and feel life is really aligned sometimes or maybe it always is, we just don’t notice it?


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