Now and again, I am overcome by a need to stop and reflect upon life and its meaning, or even its meaninglessness in some areas. This is one such occasion where thoughts of productivity and deadlines are subdued by an inescapable air of solitude – a need to put things down for a moment and take stock of whether they ought to be carried any further.
Having been through this mood on several occasions, I must say that it is a strange feeling. In some sense, one feels as though they are in control of the process and that the stock-taking is happening deliberately and consciously. But in another sense, one is whisked away into the abyss for a cleansing of some sort and returns renewed.
When I first encountered this feeling, I often dismissed it and pressed on with making things happen. After all, even the apostles of motivation and personal development warn us against taking days off when the job is not done. As Will Smith put it, the distinctive feature between him and other people is that he will not be out-worked – he is not afraid to die on a treadmill. Hence, one who aspires to be like him and many other “successful” people – as did I, at some point in my life – must inadvertently accept the curse of Sisyphus. That is the curse of carrying a large boulder up a mountain, only to let it come crashing down and then carry it up all over again without rest.
But lately, I have come to appreciate that all of life has a rhythm, of which an essential part is to pause. Pausing breaks the spell of being goal-driven and invites the mind to wander in the forest of existence. In the mysterious unknown, the mind repairs itself and forms new perspectives.
But therein lies the paradox. Resting with a purpose, that is to say, intending to let the mind wander, as I have described, is not resting at all. It is like going on holiday and returning even more tired, or like catching a few hours of sleep to become more productive the next day. In the short term, one might feel re-energised, but long term, the grime builds up and ends up clogging our system.
The source of our misery and fatigue is that we are always intentional, even about things that happen of themselves. We plan to rest, we plan to eat, we plan to make love, we plan to laugh, forgetting that all of this, as with the growth of our hair and the strengthening of our bones, just happens. Thus, we tire from carrying things, which otherwise carry themselves.
Likewise, we have an instinct for pausing and resting, and every time we pay attention to it, we get back in tune. Like a musical instrument, we become more wholesome and lead our lives with the spirit of Wu Wei – that is to say, by sailing a boat using the wind instead of peddling it ourselves.
