I love the days of doing nothing in particular
when the hard black lines of schedules fade away
leaving an empty white page
and time stops hovering over us
pointing and shouting directions.
I love the days of not deciding anything in advance
or not deciding anything at all
depending on the nature
of each unknowable unfolding moment.
I love the days of not caring about being productive
which turn out to be the most productive of all.
I love the days of not needing
to be anywhere except here.
I love the empty days of doing nothing
that become gloriously full of being.