The Art of Doing Nothing.
People often ask me what I do on vacation. My response is always the same. "Nothing." "Nothing?" they always ask. "Nothing," I reply. "I mean, I read a lot, but mainly I do nothing."
Nothing involves reading for hours on end. Waking up to read in bed. Going downstairs to eat breakfast and read. Taking a book down to the lake to read. Putting the book down to take a nap. Waking up to read some more. Dinner with the family, and back to more reading. Throughout the day, I'll inject some movies, games of putt-putt golf, trips to the winery, and visits with the neighbors. But the main draw of vacation is the fact that I do not have to be anywhere at any time. (Excluding of course family dinner, but I conveniently forget this.) If I want to wake up and read for 5 hours, I can. If I want to wake up and go for a 3 hour bike-ride, I can. If I want to wake up and roll over and go back to sleep, I can.
Vacation involves nothing. And it is always everything I thought it could be and more.
Nothing involves reading for hours on end. Waking up to read in bed. Going downstairs to eat breakfast and read. Taking a book down to the lake to read. Putting the book down to take a nap. Waking up to read some more. Dinner with the family, and back to more reading. Throughout the day, I'll inject some movies, games of putt-putt golf, trips to the winery, and visits with the neighbors. But the main draw of vacation is the fact that I do not have to be anywhere at any time. (Excluding of course family dinner, but I conveniently forget this.) If I want to wake up and read for 5 hours, I can. If I want to wake up and go for a 3 hour bike-ride, I can. If I want to wake up and roll over and go back to sleep, I can.
Vacation involves nothing. And it is always everything I thought it could be and more.