The Concept Of Aimlessness

Attaining Nothing

Aimlessness is a practice I wish to embrace and acquire

Lying on my bed, my backache laid to rest, I stare up at the sky in a trance-like mode of relaxation mixed with a portion of misgivings. Guilt egging me on to fill the crevices of freed time with a healthy glass of water or a few words penned and rhymed.

Holding my breath, I try to contain the load of thoughts gathering momentum in my mind. A drizzle of musings difficult to control without rambling on as I’m doing now. Control the anti-concept.

Aimlessness, a word I discovered not long ago, describes exactly my state of restful mind before I burst the bubble and began reflecting — desperate to write down my thoughts before they escaped on a cloud of forgetfulness.

My chilled mind wandering along wide-open routes. Highways swapping lanes of thoughts for spaces of nothingness which I try to retain before who knows where I’ll finally end up.

In my younger adult days, the concept of aimlessness was unimaginable. Walking my kids in their prams always had to have a goal — to the shop, meet a friend. Whatever, never simply so.

Embracing aimlessness, I can rid myself of any nagging guilt reminding me to utilise the bit of free time I am enjoying.

I anchor my mind to the memory of the swing which hung from the branch of a caring stalwart tree in the garden of my childhood, just me, swinging my legs backwards and forwards, propelling energy — from high to low — letting go, swinging until in equilibrium I almost come to a stop, my feet gently sweeping the dust.

And then off again to another exhilarating round, pushing my legs against the resistance of the ground with a mighty thrust. Ascending up, up and away into descending aimlessness…