Tag Archives: life

The Art of Not Doing Anything: A Stoic Sofa Saga

ARTICLES, , , , , , , ,

Imagine this: a lazy Sunday afternoon unfolds, and I find myself sinking into the inviting comfort of my sofa, a sanctuary of relaxation. The soft cushions cradle me as I consciously decide to give myself a break, a moment to simply exist. However, a persistent voice in my head urges me to get up, be productive, and tackle the to-do list awaiting my attention.

Despite this internal push, I am determined to resist the siren call of chores and responsibilities. It’s not about laziness; it’s a deliberate choice to indulge in the simplicity of doing nothing, allowing the world to spin on its own for a moment while I catch my breath.

Yet, beneath the surface of this seemingly serene scene lies a storm of frustration and chaos within. The relentless pressure to achieve more, do more, and be more has taken its toll. It’s akin to navigating a ship through turbulent waters, desperately seeking a calm harbor amid the chaos.

As I grapple with the urge to jump up and start cleaning, my thoughts shift to a broader reflection on life. Similar to the ongoing struggle between rest and responsibility, my days have often been a relentless push to achieve, a constant motion to keep the wheels turning. This pattern echoes in relationships – the desire to perpetually contribute, fix, and improve, sometimes overshadowing the simple joy of being present.

In this contemplative state, I stumble upon the Stoic principle that champions the art of “not doing anything.” It’s not about idleness or neglecting responsibilities; it’s a deliberate pause, a conscious choice to step back and let life unfold without the need for constant interference. The Stoics understood the power of stillness, the wisdom in allowing the world to run its course without feeling the need to control every aspect.

Amid my internal sofa saga, the profound truth behind this Stoic principle becomes evident. Embracing the act of not doing anything offers a unique perspective. It’s akin to standing on the shore and observing the waves – becoming an observer of our own lives, attuned to the ebb and flow without being swept away.

The art of not doing anything is a rebellion against the modern ethos that glorifies busyness and constant motion. It’s a declaration that, at times, the most profound moments occur when we release the tight grip of control and allow life to unfold organically.

The concept of embracing moments of stillness and not constantly striving to control or intervene aligns with certain Stoic principles. Stoicism, an ancient philosophy, emphasizes the importance of accepting what we cannot control and finding tranquility in the midst of chaos. While the specific phrase “the art of not doing anything” may not be a direct Stoic quote, the sentiment resonates with Stoic ideas about maintaining inner peace through a measured and thoughtful approach to life.

So, here I am, still on the sofa, resisting the urge to succumb to the frenzy of productivity. I am not slacking off; I am embodying the Stoic wisdom that lies in the simple act of being present, of savoring the quiet moments in a world that never seems to stop. It’s a rebellion against chaos, a rebellion that brings peace. Settling into this moment of stillness, I can almost hear the whispers of my intuition, telling me that alignment with the heart begins with the serenity found in doing nothing at all.

“Amid the bustling symphony of life, the sofa becomes my silent refuge—a canvas for the art of not doing anything, where the Stoic philosophy and my personal saga intertwine in a tranquil dance of stillness.” -Suzette Lyn

A Tortilla Day

ARTICLES, , , ,

On my way home, my mind drifted to all the responsibilities waiting for me. But then I decided to call my daughter and asked, “What would you like for dinner tonight?” Her voice, bright and eager, responded with one word: “Tortilla.” A small smile crept across my face. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple request, yet it filled me with a warm sense of peace. There was comfort in knowing I’d be coming home to her.

As I opened the door, she came running toward me, wrapping her arms tightly around me in a hug that felt like a grounding force. She peered into my shopping bag with the curiosity of a child, a playful grin spreading as she inspected its contents. Then, in that sweet, casual way children have of surprising us, she said, “I want to cook with you.” Her words were like music, a soft melody carrying a message of love and connection.

In that small moment, the weariness of the day melted away. We pulled out ingredients together, laughing and talking, moving around the kitchen in a dance of familiarity. She was so focused, intent on each step of our little meal prep. I noticed how her hands had grown since the last time we did this—fingers nimble and delicate, stirring, chopping, assembling, all with the enthusiasm only a child can bring. Her joy was contagious, drawing me into her world, where everything felt lighter.

As we finally sat down at the table, sharing the tortillas we’d made together, I felt a sense of fulfillment that words can hardly capture. The warmth of her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes as she talked about her day, and the simple act of sharing a meal—it was all so ordinary, yet in that ordinariness was a profound peace and joy.

I thought to myself that this kind of happiness was rare, a gift amid the constant challenges of life. In a world that often measures happiness by achievements, possessions, and grand milestones, here was a quiet, unassuming joy, reminding me that sometimes the most meaningful moments are the simplest ones. Despite the daily grind and the struggles I face, these moments of connection offer me a sense of purpose that transcends everything else.

Philosophers like Søren Kierkegaard remind us that life’s true richness is often found in the present, in the awareness of each simple act. Kierkegaard spoke of living “authentically,” which means embracing life’s fleeting moments and understanding that they are what give life its meaning. This authenticity does not come from grand gestures or monumental events but rather from fully inhabiting each moment, no matter how simple, and allowing oneself to be fully present within it.

Similarly, Friedrich Nietzsche believed in “amor fati”—the love of one’s fate. He argued that finding joy in life’s simple moments, in every challenge and blessing, is a way of affirming life in its entirety. Nietzsche teaches us to embrace these everyday experiences and see them as integral to who we are becoming. To him, each moment spent with loved ones, each act of kindness, each meal shared is a thread that weaves the tapestry of a life fully lived.

In that evening with my daughter, I realized that joy doesn’t have to be chased or bought or achieved; it simply has to be noticed. It waits in those quiet, shared moments, like cooking together and enjoying a meal, in the loving gaze of a child, in laughter at the dinner table. This kind of happiness anchors us, offering stability amid the unpredictability of life. It shows us that in the end, what truly matters are these simple, meaningful moments that quietly make life rich.

References:

• Kierkegaard, Søren. Either/Or: A Fragment of Life. This work delves into the importance of living authentically and being present in each moment.

• Nietzsche, Friedrich. Ecce Homo. Nietzsche’s reflections on “amor fati” encourage us to embrace all aspects of our lives, both joyful and challenging, with acceptance and love.