How often do you let yourself just exist?

     How often do you let yourself just be, rather than do?

     How often do you exist without tending to the burning desire of productivity?

      Even when you're producing, how often do you let yourself exist without belittling yourself for procrastinating?

     How often do you sit outside with a coffee and just exist?

     Or do you instead, sit with a coffee as you read the newspaper. Sip your coffee as you try to plan your day. Sit with your coffee as you think of all the things on your to do list.

     How often do you let yourself sip your coffee with an empty head and a smile on your face?

      How often do you rock out in the shower without reliving arguments and thinking about what you should have said?

      How often do you sit and do nothing other than appreciate the air filtering through your lungs, and the blood pumping through your veins?

       The answer for most of these, in my case, is: not often enough.

     I've fallen under the rabbit hole of multitasking. I tell myself that I thrive when I'm completing multiple tasks at once. I can't just sit and write. I have to have music playing in the background, my emails open in another tab, and my lunch in the oven, all at the same time.

     My friends and family tell me that they wish I'd focus on one task, but I see them do the same. Doing the same as they cook, do the dishes and watch their new show all at once. The same as they make phone calls, fold the laundry and think of the next way to go about the home renovations.

     Even things we enjoy become a task. How many books can I read? How many different projects can I work on today? I want to write a new Medium post, edit my book, and write a new chapter in my newest novel.

     I'm consumed by the idea of productivity.

     And that's not always a bad thing. I enjoy being productive. I enjoy my passtimes. I love reading and writing.

      But sometimes I forget myself. Sometimes I forget that I am human and not a machine.

     Sometimes I forget that there's meant to be an enjoyment in the simplest forms of living because there was once a time that that is all we had.

      Sometimes I wonder how different I would be, if I were living centuries ago. How different I would be if my life consisted of tending to my garden so we could have supper over our handmade fire, just outside the cave we called home.

      Maybe I'd already be dead because modern medicine has yet to exist. Maybe I'd feel like something was missing. Or maybe I'd spend my day laying under the hot sun, and feel a sense of achievement in its most primal form.

     I'm learning to just be.

      That's not to say, I don't still have goals and apspirations. I'm still working hard on achieving my dreams. I'm still being productive. I still spend most of my free-time working on my novels and next blog post.

      But I'm in the process of finding a healthy balance between being and doing.

     Part of this for me means meditating. Not necessarily in the traditional sense of sitting with my legs crossed and hands up, but instead in the simplest form of randomly pausing. Taking random pauses during the day to still my thoughts and take a few deep breaths.

      It can really be as simple as that. As simple as stopping whatever you're doing for even just 30 seconds. To stop, close your eyes, inhale through your nose, and appreciate where you are.

      Lay on the floor and let yourself focus on your favourite song.

     Lay on the floor and appreciate the roof above your head.

      Lay on the grass and appreciate the beauty of the sky in its brightest and darkness forms.

      Sit and think of nothing but your breathing.

     Watch your surroundings without a thought of the future or past.

     Listen to the birds chirping.

     Watch the trees sway in the wind.

     Watch a stranger smile at their children.

     Watch the clouds shifting above your head.

      Doing these simple things, has made me realize that nothing really matters. It doesn't matter if I don't get that promotion. It doesn't matter if I don't get that new dress. It doesn't matter if I spend the day sitting in the sun, rather than writing another blog post. (Sure the completion of these things would be nice. Sure they might help me towards my goals, but even if they don't happen, I'm still breathing).

     In some way, realizing that nothing really matters makes everything matter more. But it matters in a different way. It matters in a way that I appreciate it more. In a way that I get to feel contentment and joy, rather than the simple sense of accomplishment from ticking another box off my list.

      Maybe you think I have my head in the clouds, again. But I'm happy to be there, and I'd encourage you to reflect on the idea of letting yourself exist without the lingering notion of productivity.

      Let yourself be. Let yourself exist with no expectations. Even if for just a few minutes everyday.