One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about human beings was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious.
At first, Ford had formed a theory to account for this strange behavior. If human beings don't keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up. After a few months' consideration and observation, he abandoned this theory in favor of a new one. If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working.
This is not daydreaming.
It's more purposeful. More productive.
It is the practice of stillness in the midst of the madding crowd.
W. H. Davies:
What is this life, if full of care, We have no time to stand and stare ...
David Foster Wallace:
Pay close attention to the most tedious thing you can find, and, in waves, a boredom like you've never known will wash over you and just about kill you. Ride these out, and it's like stepping from black and white into color. Like water after days in the desert. Instant bliss in every atom.
There's been much talk of late about the loss of privacy, but equally calamitous is its corollary, the loss of solitude.
Being "always on" is being always off, to something.
I need idle time in equal proportion to planned time; leaving time for the unplanned, and making sure there's enough time for a bit of nothing. It's this space that makes the planned more worthwhile.
Introspection means talking to yourself, and one of the best ways of talking to yourself is by talking to another person. One other person you can trust, one other person to whom you can unfold your soul. One other person you feel safe enough with to allow you to acknowledge things -- to acknowledge things to yourself -- that you otherwise can't.
In the end, how many 25-year friends can you hope to make in one lifetime? How many do you really need?
Looking for moments of peace amid the hurly-burly of daily life