I’m an Action Figure!
Why So Busy?
"For love of bustle is not industry – it is only the restlessness of a hunted mind."
(Seneca, Letter 3)
I'll be the first to admit that it's difficult to relax. I often feel like I need to be doing something all the time--but what does all that busy-ness reveal? It only shows I am "driven" not "driving." Ponder that for a second.
Seneca's simple instruction makes me realize how much stress I create for myself by keeping busy. What do I accomplish by wearing myself out? Even bread after all that kneading need to rest in order to grow, to produce. Even God rested after creation and we are far from anything divine.
When one inventories all that is on the mind, two categories become clear: what am I able to control (responsible for) and what I am NOT able to control. Once this distinction is made then half of what haunts the mind dissipates. One realizes that the other half does not have the urgency it seems, so that can be released as well.
Give yourself a break. There's no need to create conflict when there is none. You are not being hunted, so don't allow your mind to run as if you were. No need to create turbulence or difficult circumstances for yourself or for anyone else.
(Seneca, Letter 3)
I'll be the first to admit that it's difficult to relax. I often feel like I need to be doing something all the time--but what does all that busy-ness reveal? It only shows I am "driven" not "driving." Ponder that for a second.
Seneca's simple instruction makes me realize how much stress I create for myself by keeping busy. What do I accomplish by wearing myself out? Even bread after all that kneading need to rest in order to grow, to produce. Even God rested after creation and we are far from anything divine.
When one inventories all that is on the mind, two categories become clear: what am I able to control (responsible for) and what I am NOT able to control. Once this distinction is made then half of what haunts the mind dissipates. One realizes that the other half does not have the urgency it seems, so that can be released as well.
Give yourself a break. There's no need to create conflict when there is none. You are not being hunted, so don't allow your mind to run as if you were. No need to create turbulence or difficult circumstances for yourself or for anyone else.
Popular posts from this blog
I’ll Be Gnome For Christmas
The Island-Fish
“O ye passengers, whom may God preserve! come up quickly in to the ship, hasten to embark, and leave your merchandise, and flee with your lives, and save yourselves from destruction; for this apparent island, upon which ye are, is not really an island, but it is a great fish that hath become stationary in the midst of the sea, and the sand hath accumulated upon it, so that it hath become like an island, and trees have grown upon it since times of old; and when ye lighted the fire upon it, the fish felt the heat, and put itself in motion, and now it will descend with you into the sea, and ye will all be drowned: then seek for yourselves escape before destruction, and leave the merchandise.—The passengers, therefore, hearing the words of the master of the ship, hastened to go up into the vessel, leaving the merchandise, and their other goods, and their copper cooking-pots, and their fire-pots; and some reached the ship, and others reached it not. The island had moved, and descended...
“And so, about this tomb of mine . . . “
“VANITY, saith the preacher, vanity! Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back? Nephews—sons mine … ah God, I know not! Well— She, men would have to be your mother once, Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was! What’s done is done, and she is dead beside, Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since, And as she died so must we die ourselves, And thence ye may perceive the world’s a dream. Life, how and what is it? As here I lie In this state-chamber, dying by degrees, Hours and long hours in the dead night, I ask “Do I live, am I dead?” Peace, peace seems all. Saint Praxed’s ever was the church for peace; And so, about this tomb of mine. I fought With tooth and nail to save my niche, ye know: —Old Gandolf cozened me, despite my care; Shrewd was that snatch from out the corner South He graced his carrion with, God curse the same! Yet still my niche is not so cramped...