What does relaxion even mean?

Getting a random day off from the horrors of six hours of classes is an amazing thing. I always plan out some wonderfully productive day, where I get up early and do everything on my check-list. But it usually turns into hitting the snooze button until it runs out of snoozes, and getting up three hours after I originally planned to, eating the worlds slowest breakfast, and not doing anything productive till mid-afternoon. So at least today I only got up an hour after I planned to, and blogging is more productive than getting sucked into watching hours of television. But some days, wouldn't a completely unproductive day be nice? Of course this is humanly impossible, as there is far too much work to be done.

I remember the good old lazy days, before responsibilities overtook life. Back when I had no job, it didn't matter if I did my homework, and I could watch movies all day, guilt free. What happened to that? Even if the studying has been done, and everything taken care of, I can't just relax. I have to be doing something useful. Even if it is as small as cleaning Steve's apartment. Ok--cleaning a whole apartment is not exactly a small feat. But that's how I feel--I need to accomplish something great in order to not feel anxious about relaxing. And even relaxing has to include something. Maybe that's a good thing--feeling guilty about wasting precious time watching television. But sometimes, I'd like to have the luxury of doing nothing.

When it comes down to it, even my hobbies contain some sort of accomplishment. Cooking a meal is not only fun for me, but it provides the reward of enjoying good food. Reading a book is relaxing, but also expands one's mind, and can open up worlds of new creative possibilities. Books are so influential to me, so even though I consider that a leisurely activity, is it really? (Ok, there is some real trash out there, but if the trashiest book I've read is Twilight, I consider that pretty good.) And then there's painting, my newest love. But it also reaps the reward of enjoying something created by your own hands. Hanging my own paintings on the wall is so satifying, like I really did something. Not saying I'm some great artist, but I'm not terrible, which is a great confidence booster. Steve coming home from work after I've finished a painting, exclaiming how much he likes it, is a great feeling.

So if everything, even my so-called leisurely activities accomplish something, is it truely relaxing? I don't like thinking that the only way to relax is by doing something mindless. I like expanding my mind more than turning it into a gooey substance. Maybe it's just being surrounded by American society, which tells us that spending Sundays, the most relaxing day of the week, watching hours and hours of football is how we are supposed to "relax". Sure, it's great to watch a movie with family, friends, ect. It's great to laugh together. And sometimes, watching TV/movies all snuggled up to my love after an exhuasting day is really all I want to do. But there has to be more than that in my freetime, otherwise I feel guilty. And maybe a lot of people feel the same way. So really, maybe I'm not this anxious person who has everything figured out. Perhaps my striving to constantly be expanding, creating, growing, is truely how humans are supposed to work. Maybe constantly filling our brains with all this mindless crap is just, well, lazy.

So as I say all this, I should probably really apply it. If I know I'll feel terrible if I don't accomplish the many tasks in my life, as well as if I don't expand my own interests, why do I spend hours on facebook? Never do I look back and think "wow all that facebooking was really fun..."

Mentally Checking Out

Thinking can be dangerous. Rather, pondering can be dangerous. Tonight the words "Losing your mind can be so refreshing" popped into view. It was like they wrote themselves onto the wall, each letter carefully etching itself into place so it could not be ignored. They pulled at each anxiety, each fear, beckoning me to join them in their irrationality. And the truth is, I normally do. There is a promise that behind every emotional breakdown there will be an undeniable clarity.

Not to say that in this moment in life I need a mental breakdown. But there's something so appealing to say "Forget my responsibilities for the day, I'm going to ______ ". We all take mental health days. And during those days, usually a lot is discovered.

I don't advocate ditching responsibilities. But when nothing actually needs to be done, what's the rush? The stress is most likely exaggerated anyways. And there is something so refreshing when ditching everything, and just taking the time to be. I think those are some of the moments when we learn the most about ourselves.

So, as I agitatedly smoked a cigarette, flicking it so hard the butt came off, I knew I needed to do something. Something different, and something I wanted to do. My choices were either spending more money on paints and canvas (which is not different, but it is something I like to do, so it should still count..), or the free option -- starting a blog. Plus, I hate going to gas stations after dark, and I'm on empty. So the option was fairly simple: the birth of this blog. We'll see how far it goes.