It's an Italian expression. It means "the sweetness of doing nothing." Elizabeth Gilbert writes about it in her wonderful memoir, Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia If you haven't read it yet, you're woefully behind the times. At least see the movie. They talk about it there too.
I am trying to learn this.
Thus, not much of a blog post today.
Have you done nothing lately, simply for the pleasure of it? I'm not talking about the kind of nothing that happens in a burned out stupor at the tail end of overwork. And I'm not talking about the serious, purposeful kind of nothing that happens in a meditation practive. I mean the sweet kind of nothing, bolstered by atmosphere, comfort, and an inner smile.
I think true health requires at least a little of it every few days. Or at least for an hour or two on Sunday morning.
When I am done with cancer treatment, I plan on indulging in a great big slice of dulce far niente. Ideally, there will be a hammock and a warm breeze, a ripe peach, and something equally juicy to read. There will be copious napping, and the ultimate cliche: long walks on the beach.