Wrestling

Wrestling

Despite all the lessons of recent years, I continue to wrestle with my own drive for productivity. My mind still spews out plans that it then wants to execute in (too) great a measure. This is quite apart from the fact that I am confronted daily with the administrative consequences of all those little projects I’ve set in motion over the past sixty years.

All of this stands in the way of my desire for a regular existence.

I long to wake up with a clear head, and after a morning walk and a good breakfast, sit down at my laptop, produce some text, and then, after a lovely lunch, take my afternoon nap. The evenings are for Lydia and me: watching the sunset together, eating together—sometimes out, sometimes at home. Ending the day with a bit of Netflix, or heading to bed early. A quiet life!

But reality is different. As soon as my head wakes up even a little in the morning, it fills with thoughts. Sometimes it’s a beautiful idea for a blog post, but should that be the case, that idea is soon overwhelmed by passing Practical Matters and New Plans. When you live in several countries at once, with associated businesses, obligations, boats, and construction projects, plus six children, an infinite number of hobbies, and a mind that invents something new every ten seconds, it is difficult to find a quiet structure.

There is always something that makes me flip open my laptop. My laptop! That instrument that should be intended for producing text! But instead, it is used for communication, spreadsheets, payments, taxes, annual accounts, etc. Or random ideas that are too easy to execute, such as fathoming fractals with the help of my friend Manus or building a tool to improve my Italian with friend Claude.

It boils down to this: I flip open that laptop, spend time doing everything until about three o'clock, until my energy has dropped below zero, and I slam the screen shut so hard that the fingers of my left hand get a tingling lesson learned.

And I haven't written a word yet.

As an aspiring Zeroist, I have tried to teach myself to accept what is (not) happening. Don’t be angry with yourself for work not done. Doing nothing is beautiful too!

But in practice, I find it difficult. I am no longer a "do-nothing." I am a writer, a builder, a bon vivant!

And work is required to keep these things going. Even the bon vivant lifestyle. Now that I know I am (rather) mortal, a certain haste to gobble up life overcomes me. To do everything I want to do and to finish everything.

I also suffer from ambition. I cannot just have a quietly bubbling sauce business; no, it must Grow! The sales figures of my book must go up! An English version must be made! Another house in Italy must be renovated, with a whole pleasure garden surrounding it!

How do I get back to the peace of the hospital? The ordered days, in which I only wrote and did nothing else? I am afraid that is not going to work. But the key lies in accepting that fact.

Zeroism again, after all: being forgiving toward myself. It doesn’t matter what you do in a day, as long as that beautiful sunset with Lydia comes.

And that is an achievable goal.