the art of doing nothing

it was a running joke among my friends growing up that I'd come over just to be able to take a nap because that wasn't allowed at home.

it wasn't all that serious, of course, but I was incredibly fortunate to have both of my parents home, all day, every day for my entire life - which meant that I wasn't often truly alone.

i'll never forget snapping once at my mother "you're just.. always THERE" to which she replied "if that's the worst thing I ever did to you, I'm not sorry" -- which, rightfully put my right in my place.

both of my parents were always full of boundless energy. productive energy. without full time jobs, they were constantly involved in my life and my brother's life, encouraging us, supporting us, but always.. watching us.

they didn't mean to, but slowly an unspoken rule developed that left me constantly justifying my actions.

"i'm studying!" i'd say as a reason to sit alone in my room on the computer

it wasn't not true, but was a thinly veiled excuse that left me always explaining away what I wanted to do through the lens of why said activity was productive

I still catch myself in these patterns from time to time. I am a recovering people pleaser after all

but these days, I find solace in setting more boundaries. in giving myself an opportunity to simply enjoy things. to take a nap when I want to, to write for writing's sake. to do things for myself.

and the funny thing is, I find myself able to be more productive this way. when I let my fear of being unproductive subside, I'm able to actually be productive, instead of constantly pretending to be.

doing nothing is productive, if you let it be.