Last year (2019), I read a book by Jenny Odell called How to Do Nothing.

At the time, I was... ready to be done with social media. I had just gotten over a pretty rough spot in my life, including a breakup, and I just needed to rest. To worry less about the news or what people thought of me.

Social media has a funny way of making you want to do things for external validation and approval. A lot of advertising is made possible by making people feel inadequate or irate.

Anyway, Jenny Odell's book really struck a chord with me. More than anything, it gave me permission to just... exist.

I didn't know that I sought that permission so deeply in my bones until it was given.

And so I rested. I licked my wounds. I exercised. I read books. I processed my break-up. I went to therapy. I rebuilt my relationships with C. and my kids. I left a job that didn't respect my boundaries. I tore my calf muscle running, and let it heal. I pursued my spirituality. I enjoyed the outdoors.

Sometimes it seems like maybe you just need to do one more thing and you'll finally get to where you're going.

And maybe that's true. But also: it's okay to just exist. Really.

I'll close this little corner of my wiki with a quote from Kurt Vonnegut’s book, A Man Without a Country:

I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.