Is doing nothing really an art?

Imagine you are a corporate slave and you have been working for the past 2 years without any break, consumed by deadlines, meetings, and responsibilities, and one fine day you get the essence of realization — that you are not living your life, but just existing, and you quit your job; you have all the free time in the world.

So far, the imagination was good until you have all the free time, but do you definitely think doing nothing brings you joy? Or are you just against your monstrous empty mind?

An empty mind is no less of a monster; we are just telling ourselves that we deserve a stress-free life, and yes, that’s true, but how long will you be free until you start losing your shit and lose yourself? When you have nothing to worry about, you start worrying about the things that are not necessary.

Why is everyone else so busy?

Why hasn’t my boyfriend called me?

Why is my skin suddenly so dry?

Does anyone really love me?

Why is someone I’ve never met doing better than I am?

All of these questions will surround you, and your mind has created a storm, and you don’t know how to get out of it.

So is doing nothing really an art, or are we exaggerating it?