All writers strive to write about something. In this post, I intend to write about nothing. Surprisingly, I am not the first to do so. After all, William Shakespeare wrote an entire play about it: “Much Ado About Nothing.” Five authors approached the topic from different perspectives:

— “ I love to talk about nothing. Its the only thing I know anything about.”
Oscar Wilde, (1854—1900)

— “ . . . but what I like doing best is nothing.”
Christopher Robin, The House at Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne (1882—1956)

— “There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do.”
Jerome K Jerome (1859—1927)

— “Nothing can come from nothing.”
King Lear by William Shakespeare (1564—1616)

— “When nothing is sure, everything is possible.”
Margaret Atwood (b 1939)

I have used a variation of Wilde’s quote in situations when someone uninvitedly butts into my conversation, asking what we are talking about. “Oh, we are talking about what we know best — nothing.”

While still in harness working long hours, I turned to Christopher Robin’s approach whenever the opportunity occurred, reveling in a brief respite to relax on the patio, to nap on the couch, or to bask in pleasant reverie; i.e., doing nothing to recharge my energy source from a demanding job. I had plenty to do, and welcomed a respite, however short.

Upon retirement, however, I pondered Jerome’s approach, feeling a deep concern about what I was going to do with my time — a key question every retiree needs to answer. Obviously, doing nothing regularly may be injurious to one’s good health in body and mind, but I resolved to do nothing for six months, which meant, in translation, that I would only do what I wanted to do. I declined all offers of employment or volunteer work, allowing the sheer pleasure of inactivity to seep into my weary bones, to unwind from an all-demanding job and to reflect on goals for my remaining days. Affectionately, I refer to that time as my “sabbatical,” a once in a lifetime opportunity, unless employed in academia.

Thereafter, seeking to add some balance between “nothing can come from nothing” and “when nothing is sure, everything is possible,” I initiated multiple tasks across different disciplines with one major difference: I accepted only what I wished to do, a yoke-freeing delight.

I will conclude with a quote, expertly quantifying “nothing”:

— “More powerful than God, more evil than the Devil; the poor have it, the rich lack it, and if you eat it you die.” Margaret Atwood (1939)

Thanksgiving Day brings an annual festival of delectables, complete with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and other trimmings, perhaps accented with a glass of wine and ended with a favorite piece of pumpkin pie. Mmmm! I thoroughly enjoy the Thanksgiving meal, perhaps imbibing a bit more than my norm.

Without fail, an hour or two later I become sleepy. I do not sleep alone, however, for most of our Thanksgiving day guests, excepting the indefatigable children, join me for a little snooze in an easy chair or on a high-backed couch later in the afternoon. This sleep-inducing phenomenon is well known, but the rationale behind the cause is debatable.

Some folks believe that turkey meat contains a mysterious ingredient, which induces sleep when you least desire it. That secret ingredient may be tryptophan (trip’-tuh-fan), an essential amino acid. Experts disagree that tryptophan causes sleepiness, as studies have found that turkey contains no greater amount of tryptophan than other poultry or fish. if true, why should turkey induce sleepiness when chicken or fish do not? (The Truth About Tryptophan, WebMD.com) Could it be the body’s digestion process? That process does require bodily energy to complete. The truth be known, any Thanksgiving day sleepiness likely remains the direct result of eating too much. Indeed, a glass or two of wine may increase the drowsiness coefficient.

The real surprise: doctors have a name for it! “Postprandial somnolence”
(post-pran’-dee-all som’ nohl ence,) or more simply, P.S. To parse the phrase: “post”, of course, means after; “prandial” means during or relating to a meal; and “somnolence’ means : sleepiness, drowsiness, a state of strong desire to sleep. So if you wish to impress your fellow sleepy guests, who may be well beyond their impression point, tell them that you are feeling “postprandial somnolence,” and excuse yourself. They may believe you have something seriously wrong, as they blink their eyes, gape a yawn and search for a comfortable resting place to reflect on it.

P.S. So this Thanksgiving Day, please do not blame the poor turkey for your sleepiness, just sip another glass of wine, move to a favorite chair, and accept a delightful postprandial somnolence.

Mediocrity defined: “the quality or state of being mediocre.” To know more, we must define mediocre: “of moderate or low quality, value, ability or performance; ordinary, so-so.” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary); “of only moderate quality; not very good; uninteresting, commonplace.” (dictionary.com.) With those definitions, who would strive to attain mediocrity? Surprisingly, many do for various reasons.

We all know people who prefer an unremarkable standard; some by intention, others by nature. While few people settle for poor, many satisfy themselves with mediocre, for they can muddle through the day, avoiding decisions, performing just enough to keep their job, but believing that on any given day they may rise to significance. The adage “No risk; no reward.” morphs into “No risk; no blame.” Mediocrity, however mundane, does merit some benefits. Consider the quote: “Only a mediocre person is always at his best.” (W. Somerset Maugham, English author, 1874—1965.) An outstanding performer can never make that claim.

The major difference between an outstanding performer and a mediocre counterpart distills to one phrase — work ethic, the road map to success. While mediocrity accepts the path of least resistance; work ethic travels the road of best possible. An egalitarian concern for “fairness” and “unhealthy competition” contributed to the weakening of our country’s fabled work ethic, which contributed to our national prosperity.

The march toward mediocrity heightened during the “participation trophy” age, when all participants, irrespective of ability, desire or contribution, received an award for just showing up. After all, why break a sweat when one can coast effortlessly across the finish line and gain the same award as everyone else?

The march toward mediocrity continues! At least half of of the states’ high schools, have expanded the “participation trophy” mentality by either (a) eliminating class ranking, or (b) altering or vacating the Valedictorian award, to curtail “unhealthy competition among students”. Please read: “You’re All No. 1! High Schools say ‘Vale’ to the Valedictorian.” (Wall Street Journal, October 7-8, 2017, page A1.) Some schools grant valedictorian distinction to any student who obtains a 4.0 GPA, a reachable goal for honor students taking advanced-level courses which grant higher than 4.0 for an A. Incredibly, an Arlington VA high school named 178 valedictorians, all achieving a 4.0 GPA, comprising one in three graduates. (op. cit.) Thus, each could claim valedictorian status on their college application, diluting the traditional excellence standard to a delusional “fairness” standard, bordering on deception.

Where will it end? Mediocrity will undermine the bedrock of our nation’s famed work ethic.

Earlier, I had addressed the importance of “practice,” (Practice, March 3, 2017) which if done correctly will lead to improved performance. Two well known adages reflect on performance:

1) “If at first you do not succeed, try try again”; and

2) “Its not the winning, its the taking part that counts.”

Unfortunately, both quotes suggest that the speaker is addressing a loser. The first prods a redo performance (perhaps practice makes perfect); the second calls for a participation trophy.

In my youth, I belonged to an athletic club, which sponsored children teams. It fostered both learning the sport basics through good coaching, stressing fair competition and good sportsmanship. Their member’s lounge, displayed numerous trophies among a prominent, ornate plaque, which sported a poem in Gothic lettering:

“When the one Great Scorer
comes to write agains’t your name,
he writes not whether you won or lost,
but how you played the game.”

In truth, “how you play the game” frequently determines whether you win or lose. Obviously, the poem focuses more on good sportsmanship than on athletic prowess, both of which remain important respecting good performance. While taking part is important indeed, striving to win fairly becomes the greater goal. “Anything worth doing, is worth doing well.” (Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield (1694—1773.) However, Leo Durocher, baseball player/manager (1905—1991) favored winning over good sportsmanship with his notorious quote: “Nice guys finish last.” Striking a balance among those objectives is essential.

From the performance and sportsmanship criteria, which prepares one for life, an egalitarian approach birthed the “participation trophy” era, intended to build esteem among children irrespective of talent, desire and performance. Some psychologists claim that building children’s self esteem merits more importance than rewarding excellent performance. While empathetic for the former, I do not believe that rewarding mere participation should replace awarding excellence. Beyond the ephemeral joy of receiving a participation trophy, it provides little preparation for life. In university or career, no one is rewarded for answering “present.” Excellence merits an award; showing up merits no more than an attendance certificate.

Why work on improving performance, when everyone receives the same reward? An entitlement mindset, though perhaps attractive at an early age, does not prepare one for the real world.

Reverie, a delightful word which evokes pleasant thoughts and reflective dalliance transporting one into an alluring Eden. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “reverie” as: “daydream; the condition of being lost in thought;’ dictionary.com adds: “a state of dreamy meditation or fanciful musing.” The latter definition reflects occasional lapses when in a relaxing, refreshing state, as by lying on a sofa, sitting in a recliner, or strolling through a forest. Reverie takes one to a happy place, if only temporary, to emerge refreshed and energized to tackle the tasks at hand.

The poet Emily Dickinson invoked reverie in a short poem:

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee —
One clover, and a bee,
And reverie,
The reverie alone will do
If bees are few.

When reading a poem or viewing an art painting, silence dominates. Like poet Dickinson, one may move inside the scene, to walk the paths, to watch the bees, to smell the flowers, adding some reverie within the static environment.

As children, I recall utilizing our imagination in may ways, as by pretending to be someone or something, or as by discovering patterns or shapes in the passing clouds, reverie at its best. As an adult, I occasionally bask in the memories of a happy childhood, a pause which serves to remove any stress or tension of the present.

What does one call a person in reverie? “Reverier” may work, except the term does not exist. “Daydreamer” works, but intimates some ne’er-do-well who floats thorough life without purpose, thus detracting from the allure of reverie. After all, reverie comprises much more than mere daydreaming.

Too much reverie, however, may distract the reverier, aka “reverie practitioner”, from completing important tasks, and possibly qualify as “Maladaptive Daydreaming”, which some Psychologists believe should be classified as a mental disorder. See “When Daydreaming Becomes a Problem.” (Wall Street Journal, May 16, 2016.)

Reverie remains a luxury that we can afford in measured, treasured moments, after our work is done.

A curse defined: “an utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.” (dictionary.com.) Familiar fairy tales introduced curses, usually by a witch casting a spell, which changed the hero into a different form, like a frog; or suspended the heroine into a long sleep. But more interesting curses exist.

Many simply identify as “a Chinese curse.” A few of them follow:

— “May all your dreams come true!” Though initially sounding wonderful, one must recognize that many dreams become nightmares, which few people would wish on a friend or loved one.

— “May your every wish be granted!” On the surface, this curse appears beneficial, but many of us wish for things or relationships that are not in our best interest.

— “May you live in interesting times!” Again, this curse appears as a favorable blessing, but wars, pestilence, and insurrections remain the fodder of “interesting times.” Peace and tranquility may be a wonderful time to live, but unfortunately do not qualify as interesting times.

The Irish produce vile curses, most of which arose centuries ago, often steeped in the Roman Catholic tradition. A sampling below:

— “May you marry in haste, and repent at leisure!” Under church rules, premarital sex constituted a mortal sin, potentially condemning the perpetrators to the fires of Hell. To marry in haste meant the familiar “shotgun” ceremony, which arose when a young woman became pregnant before marriage. Repent in leisure meant that the divine condemnation remained until forgiven by confession, so if a person died before confessing his sin, he would go to hell.

— “May you get the runs on your wedding night!” Under the strict Catholic rules, couples must forego sex until after their wedding. Accordingly, the wedding night became the most wonderful night of one’s life, which would be spoiled and soiled by diarrhetic unpleasantness.

— “May you be plagued with a powerful itch, and not have the nails to scratch it!” No mincing words here! An itch is a most agonizing annoyance, so without means to scratch it brings unending grief.

Lastly, a Venezuelan curse:

— “May you find yourself between lawyers!” This curse raises fear to another plateau. While the lawyers fight, of course, the client must pay their fees.