Not thinking seeds the space for excellent thinking
Once upon a time I was always on – always in work mode. Driven. Obsessive.
My mind working, even as I slept.
The rush of adrenaline, the surge of dopamine. It felt powerful. A drug of choice of the dominant culture. Addictive.
I remember making a clear choice. Not this life. Not any more.
For if this is it, what is the point of life?
I miss beauty, laughter, losing myself down the rabbit hole of a great novel.
I now refuse to get caught in the trap of frantic.
Nature, of course, is a great teacher of finding the rhythm between doing and not doing.
To everything, there is a season.
There are times to go hard, work late. But not endlessly.
We also need time to do little. To winter, and wallow.
On a daily basis, my early mornings are unthinking time. Roam thinking, like a butterfly. Unstructured. When I am surfing, there is very little else but the waves, the ocean.
This last weekend was unplugged. Cleaning after the storm. Sorting the external world from chaos to order. Physically exhausting and deeply satisfying.
The space seeds the ground for excellent thinking and acting.
Polarity in action. The tensegrity of being.
Finding the flow is a constant dance. Never scripted. Emergent. Like life.
Photo March 17 2025, Article written March 17th 2025
