The Art of Doing Nothing

I'm a workaholic. I blame my father, the great multitask-er, even when he's retired and supposed to sitting all day reading and relaxing, he's currently landscaping my sister's backyard.

Of course, to be a journalist, that's a prerequisite. After all, we are the lords of multitasking, always reading, researching, interviewing and writing. The news cycle is never-ending these days and there are always updates and things to be caught up with. Because a journalist is not a journalist if they don't know the news.

And if you're a freelancer, that's double the amount of work because you spend your work time in that job that makes you actual money to pay for the essentials (rent and food), your spare time is spent being a journalist because that's where the passion lies and that's why you wanted to be a writer in the first place.

My adviser told me to stay centered, after I expressed to her that I feel guilty even watching movies because then I feel like I'm wasting time. "That's not good," she said.

Doing nothing is an art as of itself. Because in a world now where information is consistently streaming in and the avenues to get that information is convenient, there's a desire to be constantly stimulated.

It gives birth to a nation of pure neurosis.

I once wrote an essay for speech and debate in high school about finding your inner hobbit. It was about finding that creature inside that is able to relax, to do nothing and not feel ashamed for it.

So since this is Spring Break at Syracuse University. It's what I'm going to do. Yes, there's still work and a deadline to deal with. But I'm dealing with it at a leisurely pace, while still leaving ample time for bad movies, catching up on my reading and visiting New York City again.

Because sometimes, doing nothing is as much work as doing something.