The other day, as my wonderful Peggy read one of her mindfulness journals and I was Googling pictures of famous politicians wearing their pants backwards, she said, "There's an article in here just for you!"
And she spoke to me of Niksen. Wikipedia says "Niksen is a Dutch verb which means "doing nothing," which can be roughly translated as 'nixing'. It has been explored as a method to combat work-related health problems such as stress and burnout."
Now, you don't hear people saying that word "Nix" any more. It's been replaced by the current "No way" or the more vibrant "NFW." It just means no. It's from the German word "nichts," meaning "nothing."
 |
| "You should come over and watch Kung Fu tonight" |
It was as if years ago, I had come up with the idea of putting a fried meat patty in a roll with cheese and calling it a cheeseburger. Niksen describes my low-energy lifestyle perfectly! Even as a kid, my heroes were guys like Ozzie Nelson, Uncle Joe from "Petticoat Junction," and, later, Peter Gibbons >>> of "Office Space": Guys who, while making sure their hearts were still beating, never got their heart rate up to the dangerous category.
No, they just showed him not working, hanging around all day in nice pants and a cardigan, getting involved in merry mixups and generally niksening it up from sunup til sundown, when he had a dish of ice cream and hit the sack.
I decided on my official slogan: Do your work, but don't let it show.
I would have translated it into Latin for the family crest, but no.
Carolien Janssen wrote a book about it! It's called Niksen: The Dutch Art Of Doing Nothing, and in the book, she says niksen is "similar to mindfulness, yet you don't need anything special to do nothing." Music to my ears! She says the way to achieve Niksenian nirvana is to "slow down and celebrate the moment of not achieving."Oh, I did my work in my day, and now it's time, as I rapidly approach the November of my years, to look back over those halcyon days and smile wistfully. Toward the end of his time, Dwight D. Eisenhower, a man of towering achievements, wrote an autobiography called "The Summing Up," and so that's my plan.
Like Ike did, I look back and I enjoy the memories. It would be too much effort to write an entire book, though, so I'll just niksen it up and not write a book.
3 comments:
I am in your debt. This post may well change my life.
My good wife once made fun of me when she spotted, on a list of my New Year's resolutions, "consider writing a book." I was offended. By the time she saw the list, I had, in fact, considered it -- carefully and at some length -- and chosen not to write one. (Have you ever talked with someone who's written a book? Two things will happen: (1) you will not write a book, and (2) you will realize that they had not talked with someone who had written a book before writing theirs.)
...And then there's the Scots' "nay," or is that "nae?" And what the hell is Nae Nae? But, meandering back to topic...
I suppose I, too, practice niksen. Having made a right mess of my first, early retirement, I have since assiduously avoided "retired," preferring "unaffiliated," or "doing research." There's actually a grain of truth in the latter. One man's tinkering is another man's research. In light of this Dutch wisdom, I may overhaul the entire contraption that I'm running here.
I avoided bollixing my one and only retirement by studying for it assiduously. I read books, I talked to wise elders, I conducted drills on my own so that on the big day itself, I was able to give away my coveted lunchtime soup bowl to a woman from the Home Health Dept who had asked for it first, gathered my few remaining effects, handed my badge and ID to my supervisor, and by the time I got to the elevator, I was in full retirement mode. Practice is key, my man.
Indeed that is eminently sensible. "So brilliant am I," I thought, "I needn't trouble with all this obvious advice for a successful retirement." Some people take a long time to learn that most things that are obvious are, well, obvious.
Post a Comment