I had an hour to kill between tutes at uni yesterday and decided not to use the tutors room to check email, blog stats, twitter, and generally take advantage of the internet’s ability to suck time from your day (I swear it’s powered by lost hours and LOLcats). Instead of doing these things, I went and sat outside. And just sat. No book, no newspaper, no journal articles, no music.
I just sat.
Every now and then I noticed the students walking past, but mostly I didn’t.
In the evening I stood in the courtyard in the dark (as dark as it gets in the city – also, the outside light is busted) and tried to notice the different smells of the flowers on the lemon tree, sage and wisteria. (For the record, sage flowers aren’t very smelly and the neighbour’s cat has been using our patch of dirt as a toilet. I hate cats.)
Over the last few months I’ve had this nagging feeling that I haven’t had time to think. Not to think about anything in particular, just about whatever. Before I started my doctorate, I was underemployed – not enough hours in a job where I wasn’t learning anything new – and so had a lot of time to think about stuff. I know for many of you, this sounds like a luxury, but I guess you either have time to think or money to do stuff.
I don’t have any revelation to offer. No ‘from now on I’m doing this’ moment. I just wanted to talk about not doing anything, because not every conversation needs to be an Aesop’s fable, right?