Doing nothing

ESPECIALLY for people who are always "busy," the art of doing nothing is an alien concept.

The rare occasion in which I am "doing nothing" generally involves flopping onto the couch and drifting into a deep sleep or lying there with my mind wandering aimlessly, not focused on anything in particular. I guess that could be called "lazing."

Inevitably, while lazing, the phone rings or pings and, as are about 90 per cent of my calls or messages, there is someone drawing my attention to an animal-related scenario – Eg “Elspeth, there is a dog with maggots eating away at its head. Can you come and help?”

In my article last Sunday, I thanked everyone who was involved in the low-cost spay/neuter clinic established jointly by Venus Doggess Of Love and Worldwide Rural Assistance Program.

Those three days (and the lead-up to them) were intense and tiring (but ultimately pleasurable, purposeful and successful) for all involved. In the capable hands of high-quality, high-volume veterinarian Dr Raymond Deonanan, supported by four "vet techs," a total of 80 dogs and cats – some pets, some feral/homeless – were spayed/neutered from September 13-15.

It is rare that I take a conscious break from the ever-present, almost all-consuming world of animal rescue in Tobago. However, I had decided that after the spay/neuter clinic, a good rest (even if just a short one) would be well deserved.

A friend (who had come from Trinidad to volunteer at the spay/neuter clinic) and I decided to go to Speyside for a brief respite, the intention being to rest and (specifically in my case) lock off for a while from "animal-related" aspects – if possible! Animals in need are everywhere on the island and, when one has a radar for them, as I do, it is hard not to see them and want to assist.

Trips to Speyside, Roxborough, the rainforest, Bloody Bay and those areas inevitably involve encountering dumped, mangey or skeletal dogs. I walked with a few Bravecto tablets (in case I met any mangy or tick/flea-ridden canines), but, as I was not driving, forgot to take the dog food that I usually carry in my vehicle.

In the end, not having dog chow did not matter. Other than a few well-kept and loved rescued pothounds belonging to the owners of the place at which we stayed, no dogs were visible. These days are scorching hot and they must have been hiding in shady spots.

On arrival at our destination, no one was around other than the employee in the office and a workman fixing something. Doors were unlocked and rooms unattended, in the trusting way that still seems the norm in more rural areas.

The only sounds were the constant splash of waves from the beach across the road, the odd passing vehicle, a voice now and again, and the sound of birds.

Against this "almost nothingness" the near-constant pinging of my phone stood out sufficiently to warrant turning it off – after responding to a few messages (animal-related).

The Dutch term niksen, which means "to do nothing," is used in some quarters as a practice, encouraging busy people to relax, relieve stress, recover from burnout. It involves immersing oneself in something that is of no particular use – eg lazing, observing one’s surroundings, listening to music or surrounding environmental sounds, allowing the mind to wander freely. One is removed from acts that have a specific purpose or that are meant to be productive or achieving.

The one-and-a-half-day Speyside "retreat" ended up being a refreshing example of
niksen. Time passed as we simply sat on two chairs on the small balcony, chatting, being silent, eating, looking at waves, birds on the telephone/electricity lines, morphing cloud shapes.

It was too hot to do much else, even go to the beach. As the day cooled into evening, we ambled over to the water wheel and then to Manta Lodge (re-opened the day before) for a cold beer each.

Later, in the evening, as the huge full supermoon (with a partial lunar eclipse) began to rise over Goat Island, we stood on the shoreline, watching silently as the full orb rose higher and the sky morphed from a hazy bluey, shrimp-coloured mix to black.

The moon, hanging around in the sky, seemed to be also engaging in
niksen – doing nothing but sending a shimmering carpet of light across the water to where we stood.

It was the perfect reflection of our decompressing.