One afternoon, Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh reflected about what happens when a child begins school and starts to grow up. Christopher Robin lamented that he will no longer be able to respond to the question, “What are you doing?” with the words, “Nothing.” Growing up means schedules and commitments and fewer hours for joyful meandering without purpose in the 100 Aker Wood. There is, of course, much to be gained in growing up in terms of knowledge and skills. Yet, something is also lost, the innocence of spontaneity and the ability to live an unprogrammed life. Is it possible to find a lively balance of order and chaos, intentionality and living in moment, planning and letting go, as part of a whole life?
Now, nearly a century after Winnie the Pooh was written, even young children’s lives have become programmed between sports and after school playdates. Children seldom get the chance to do “nothing” or to spend a summer without classes and camps. On a daily basis, parents shuttle their children to afterschool sports practice and music lessons. Some of this, of course, reflects changes in family life, technology, and culture. Still, the 24/7 world characteristic of many persons’ lifestyles is unhealthy for adults, children, and the playful child that still lives deep within us. There are times we simply need to do “nothing” and have space to breathe and go through a day without any plans other than happily meandering from one encounter to another, reading a good book, or immersing ourselves in the wonders of nature and realities that neither “toil nor spin.”
Doing nothing is countercultural and may give you the reputation of being a slacker, but a healthy, dynamically balanced life emerges from the integration of purpose and purposelessness, planning and synchronicity, and intentionality and open-endedness. As John Lennon avers, “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.”
In religious circles, there is a place for doing nothing, and it’s called Sabbath. During times of Sabbath rest, we resign from being god or goddess, let go of control, respect the enduring realities of life which go forward regardless of what we do, and rest in God’s blessings. The Jewish tradition even suggests that God takes a Sabbath to make room for human creativity and freedom. An over-functioning God, supervising and closely determining our every move, sucks the air of creation. Although God is omnipresent, God’s presence is often a subtle and gentle providence, which doesn’t control but chooses to let go so we can grow.
Imagine doing nothing! Imagine spending a day meandering and joyfully encountering with world with fresh eyes. Christopher Robin wants to have time in which he, like the poet Mary Oliver, is simply “idle and blessed” as she embraces the wonder of a “summer day.” Living life, pausing, noticing, opening, responding, and blessing. Christopher Robins wants to receive as well as give, to contemplate as well as act, and to play as well as plan.
Sabbath-keeping is often seen as rule-bound – a matter of “blue laws,” restrictions, and prohibitions instead of an agile and playful time of creative freedom. Sabbath, whether on Saturday, Sunday, or any other day of the week is about bathing your senses in the wonder of life and letting beauty flow through ever portal. It’s about room to roam, geographically and imaginatively, embedded in this glorious now.
Christopher Robin knows that as an adult he will have to snatch time for Sabbath in a world of plans and schemes. So, do we. Ironically, we need to plan for Sabbath – to turn off the phone, abandon the internet, forget the calendar – and let life pass us by for a few hours. Lord knows, the world will catch up with us soon enough and there will e-mails needing response, appointments to be made, and tasks to be completed. But in those holy hours of doing nothing our spirits will be replenished and we will discover new perspectives on our daily lives. We will see the world with fresh eyes and recalibrate our priorities. We will reset our spiritual GPS, and may learn that emptiness is as important as fullness and that saying “no” to some things enables us to say “yes” to others. Time will slow down and our senses will be reawakened in the quiet and restful center that gives meaning to our cyclonic lives. By doing nothing everything will fall in place and time will become a sanctuary of the spirit rather than a race to be run. (For more on Winnie the Pooh and his adventures, see Bruce Epperly, “The Gospel According to Winnie the Pooh, Noesis Books, 2016.)
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