How to Do Nothing
First you must wash the window to observe more clearly
the dandelion seed heads bobbing in the wind. Next,
announce on Facebook and Twitter that you will be offline
for the next two days, if not forever. Heat water for tea.
Remember the bill you forgot to pay, and then cleanse
your mind of all regret. Consider industrial solvents
and the smoothness of sand-scoured stone, the miracle
of erasure. Eliminate all thought, but remember
the water. Hitch a ride on a Miles Davis solo and float
away on a raft of bluesy notes and lions’ teeth,
and wonder how to sabotage your neighbor’s leaf blower,
but nicely, of course. She’s a widow with a gun.
Now it is time to empty yourself. Close your eyes.
Become a single drop of dew on a constellation of petals.
Evaporate, share the bliss. Stuff that dog’s bark
into a lock box alongside the tapping at the door,
the phone’s vibration, the neighbor’s rumbling bass,
and the nagging, forgotten something that won’t
solidify until three in the morning, keeping you awake.
But don’t ignore the whistling. You must steep the tea.
* * *
“How to Do Nothing” was published in Volume 4 of Steel Toe Review.
Ha. Love this. Accurate description of me meditating. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Alison. Try as I might, my brain is always combatting clutter!
LikeLike
Hahaha, this is amazing.
LikeLike
perfect recipe
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perfect in its imperfection! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This would be another great broadside! And I love “She’s a widow with a gun”!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s an idea! Well, this was written in Texas. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice reminder. I especially like the Miles Davis recommendation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Can’t go wrong with Miles. Or Coltrane.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like this one a lot, Bob! Interplay between the teapot and all those distractions was clever and funny.
Sent via mobile device
>
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Brother Clyde! Distractions, distractions. Damned distractions!
LikeLike
This is one of my favorites – I can so easily drop into every line, readily recognizing my own likelihood to forget the water heating. (Alas, my electric pot does not whistle … how many times have I had to restart it?)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m good at getting the water into the cup. After that, well…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tiptop.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Nick.
LikeLike
This really speaks to me. I need to go out to observe before I can go in to create, or allow creating to pass through me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
At the very least, I need windows to stare out of!
LikeLike
I ride my bike around older neighborhoods imagining the people who live – why is there no railing on one side of the deck. Is that ramshackle hut way in the back a studio, a workshop, full of old rusty gardening tools? Where does that path lead to?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the little mysteries!
LikeLike
I’m becoming a living master/(mistress) of the “Do-Nothing” ethic. Nice to see the process so well articulated!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Doing nothing is hard work! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fo’ sho’, Robert!
LikeLiked by 1 person