(Version française : Rue du Faire)
A short post, as an invitation dropped in the mailbox of people living in Doing Street…
There are few things that worry me as much as this one.
I believe this to be the mother of all worries : the injunction to do…
It worries me because I see people, who somehow managed to temporarily move out of this place, dive back down, head first into one of the ten thousand suckers whirling from the octopus’ mindless tentacles.
Lifetime is going by, leaving them unable to inhabit, to lastingly feed from the depth of Non-Doing.
Meeting, travelling, moving, entertaining working producing, watching, consuming…I dread to think of the many faces the injunction to do is able to wear.
Its consequences as they unfold into social, environmental and psychological spheres are dizzying.
Just as much dizzying is its parallel side, haunting the corridors of our lives, waiting for the right moment to explode : the suspicion of not doing.
In the eyes of society, non doing is terribly suspicious…
Whoever lives in Doing Street is made anxious at the prospect of non-doing.
For non-doing inhabitants perfectly emphase doers’ persistent anxiety.
Doing is the solution they bring to this anxiety and non-doing sends them in a spiral of confusion.
This solution is as unconscious as it is inefficient.
Because it is mindless process, it manifests itself in such a way.
Sitting is an invitation to sneak through the open hatch into the Realm of Non-Doing.
(Une version française est disponible ici : Rue du Faire)
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