No doubt the irony is intentional on your part, but I'm struck by how your assertion that "Nothing Happened" on those two lagniappe days is far from accurate. On the contrary: Something big happened for you! Although I'm not much of a nature guy (I recently got a hearty laugh from someone when I told her that I'm an "indoorsman"), I'd venture to say that a hallmark of being in nature is that the distinction between presence and absence—between something happening and nothing happening—tends to blur. More or less in the same spirit, I love the idea that "I am self" could mean "I am alone." It puts a positive spin on a condition that's typically viewed as negative, and it captures the way that a rich, full solitude and an aching loneliness can be two sides of single experiential coin.
A bonus Self day, with absolutely nothing on the agenda--what a wonderful gift from the universe! And then one more, for good measure!
The last time I received a similar gift of unexpected Self days was two years ago, when I contracted covid and had to isolate in a separate room of the house for 10 days. The first few days hardly felt like a gift (aside from my deep appreciation for the fact that my symptoms, though very unpleasant, were clearly not life-threatening,) but by the second half of my quarantine I felt well enough to thank my lucky stars that the room I was in was the one where all my books and musical instruments reside. Honestly, those last few days felt well worth the price of admission.
I can imagine that the latter part of that experience was pleasant! I often think about circumstances that give us an excuse to do the things we really want to do (such as mild illness, travel, sitting in waiting rooms, etc.) and wonder why we don't just build time to do those things into our schedule in the first place. Is it really lack of time, or is it self-censorship?
Was chuckling at the "Är du själv?" We evil Finns tend to make fun of the Swedes who cannot even admit to be alone.
Joking aside, it is rather a genious way of thinking. A conference with self (your self) is clearly more palatable than doing it alone.
No doubt the irony is intentional on your part, but I'm struck by how your assertion that "Nothing Happened" on those two lagniappe days is far from accurate. On the contrary: Something big happened for you! Although I'm not much of a nature guy (I recently got a hearty laugh from someone when I told her that I'm an "indoorsman"), I'd venture to say that a hallmark of being in nature is that the distinction between presence and absence—between something happening and nothing happening—tends to blur. More or less in the same spirit, I love the idea that "I am self" could mean "I am alone." It puts a positive spin on a condition that's typically viewed as negative, and it captures the way that a rich, full solitude and an aching loneliness can be two sides of single experiential coin.
Very nicely expressed, Mike. And I love the term "indoorsman"!
A bonus Self day, with absolutely nothing on the agenda--what a wonderful gift from the universe! And then one more, for good measure!
The last time I received a similar gift of unexpected Self days was two years ago, when I contracted covid and had to isolate in a separate room of the house for 10 days. The first few days hardly felt like a gift (aside from my deep appreciation for the fact that my symptoms, though very unpleasant, were clearly not life-threatening,) but by the second half of my quarantine I felt well enough to thank my lucky stars that the room I was in was the one where all my books and musical instruments reside. Honestly, those last few days felt well worth the price of admission.
I can imagine that the latter part of that experience was pleasant! I often think about circumstances that give us an excuse to do the things we really want to do (such as mild illness, travel, sitting in waiting rooms, etc.) and wonder why we don't just build time to do those things into our schedule in the first place. Is it really lack of time, or is it self-censorship?
Beautiful. I remember the “time stone”, and I think about it sometimes. The idea of being awarded more time made a big impression on me.
I wish I could offer you a free day, Tove!