Is There Anything as Sweet as Being Idle on a Sunday?

I am a fan of idleness and hold it dear pretty much above all other human endeavors. The wealthy seek entertainment, the poor some respite from their fight to survive and most managers hope for a leg up at what the next man has. But I have been idle this past Sunday and revel at the peace it has brought to my soul and the creativity to my wandering thoughts.

It's been a particularly tortured week in world affairs

Yevgeny Prigozhin, the head of the Wagner group of mercenary troops fighting Russia’s war in Ukraine, suddenly called it quits ands moved on Moscow, scaring the shit out of Putin. Putin is not a man you want to scare the shit out of. The electric grid is failing across the southern US as record temperatures settle in and the exploratory sub selling tickets to visit the Titanic imploded, instantly killing everyone on board. Otherwise, chaos reigned as normal.

Charlie, a good friend of mine who fought in Korea, told me of the desires of men who have been too long in battle

Strangely enough, those dreams aren’t often directed at a steak dinner, hot shower, or even sex. The predominant wish, the same (almost to the wording) from various sources and across differing nationalities, is for a quiet few days at home without any sort of stimulation whatever, other than maybe a home-cooked meal.  Simply lying on their back looking up into the trees, left to the enjoyment of birdsong, following a squirrel from branch to branch, gazing toward an undefined middle-distance with no one shooting and no one to shoot at.

I was lucky. My time spent in the Army as a draftee occurred between the end of the Korean War and beginning of Vietnam. Even so—and perhaps particularly so--it is my belief that man is at his best when idle. And I was idle this past Sunday with no one shooting at me.

I took the entire day to express my gratitude, to remind myself, as I often do, that nobody out there conspires against me and I conspire against no man.

Creativity needs down time and, at their best, humans are creative

There is much to be loved about being unknown, walking the streets unheralded, un-sought-after, unindicted, unmolested and generally left the hell alone. That great majority of us who enjoy the status of no status are able to lie on the hillside of our choice, sucking a blade of grass, perhaps in the company of someone or some dog we love, gazing at clouds and deciding how next to idle away our afternoon.

That is perhaps the greatest gift of all and you who read me are my friends. I wish you idleness when you need it as a gift from me to you, if only for short periods.