Diary Dear!

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Sometimes I get so tired and bored with myself. Especially when I’m tired. And I get a bit angry too, and irritated. Of myself. Doing nothing. Bone idle…

I sit for hours with a solitaire, I’ve four or five that I switch between, two I like slightly more, Forty Thieves mostly. I sit with it while I eat, while I listen to Kryon on YouTube, while I just sit. I can even put away a book, and take the iPad or the MacBook just for the purpose – playing a while with a solitaire.

Nothing wrong with that, per se. Can be a very useful relaxing tool. And I’ve noticed, that if I absentmindedly play a solitaire while listening to something I really want to listen to, it helps me to keep my concentration on listening. If I don’t do it, my thoughts wanders away, and I don’t hear a thing of what I wished to hear.

Awkward maybe, but so it is. Sometimes though, it just gets too much, too many hours of Solitaires and I get bored. And oddly, or not oddly, I can’t find any inspiration to do anything else either.

I even changed the theme for this blog, in an effort to pick me up a bit…
But knowing myself, I might very well change it back to the usual one in a while… perhaps…

BUT! I realized that I’m actually allowed, to “do nothing”. And it’s not just okay, it’s also necessary! After all those years with stress, I now actually can just sit still, doing nothing of value – and not feeling guilty about that!

When I was little, I used to read lots. Not only books, I read everything with letters on it. The texts on cereal boxes, milk packages, commercial folders and so on. And of course, comic magazines, like Donald Duck…
I read at the dinner table, on the toilet, in my bed at night, outdoors, indoors….
I’ve actually read a lot most of my life. Except for those years recently when I suffered from the stress related burn out… and I’m not quite over that phase yet… obviously…

Mom got irritated, or maybe she was just concerned. “Don’t read all the time”, she said. “You’ll destroy your eyes!” Or she could say: “Don’t just sit there with the book, don’t you have anything better to do?”
She meant that I should do something she thought was better. Like folding my clean laundry, or dust my room. Or something.

So in my head, for a very long time, a voice has over and over again said to me: “Don’t just sit there! Don’t you have anything better to do?”

I have dirty dishes in the kitchen now, and I don’t even have a clue what this writing will develop into.

Or maybe it’s high time to urge myself to go to bed. NOW!

I have at least written something today. Not every day that happens, sorry to say.

Painting by Axel Olson, 1931