Blobbing Out May Be A Way To Escape Rut

I am a lover of words. I like their sounds, like “squish!” I like their nuances like “finite.” Finite sounds like a crisp, it’s really over, end. My favorite word at the moment is “fallow.” It translates as a piece of ground that is left uncultivated, after being ploughed and harrowed. Farmers do this to restore fertility. Fallow land is potentially useful but not put to use, perhaps as a way to make it ready for a later sowing.

Usually fall brings out a creative burst in me, cool weather, school starting, new projects, curling up in big chairs and stretching the mind. This fall I want to join the fallow crowd. I don’t want to do anything at all. I’ve bought a bright pink teddy bear jumpsuit from J. Peterman called the “Sunday Times suit.” Apparently fallow women in New York wear it to read the Sunday edition of the New York Times. It doesn’t have feet or a drop seat but it’s close to those baby pajamas.

This fall I want to take naps, burrow into comforters and eat coconut cream pie. I don’t want to read stimulating books, think about politics, or ride airplanes to important conferences. I may start meditating. “Blobbing out” is what I used to call this mood when it was only for a few hours or a day. But this feels like it could last months. I want to catch up with my soul.

Are any of you in the same mood, needing a sabbatical? Are you worn out in enough ways to want a time-out to repair your body and psyche? Join me if it suits your mood, and we’ll set up a regeneration plan. I’m new at this, but I’ve got some ideas of what we can do. I know we still have to pay the rent and do the laundry but there must be a way to lie fallow and still survive.

Becoming a part-time “blobbette” or “blobber” is a good beginning. I do it by taking a shower; clean is always relaxing. Then put on loose, very casual clothes and pop a very large bowl of popcorn. I use butter. Open a few bottles or cans of soda, then lie on the couch. Put a towel on your chest to wipe your hands, the bowl of popcorn on the towel and the soda within arms reach on the floor.

Before going horizontal, unplug the telephone and pick up some videos. I go for British novels, Dickens, Austen, Bronte, Elliot or Disney. Pop the tape in, stretch out all your tension, head to toes, and start stuffing yourself with popcorn. You have reached full blob state when you belch. It helps to be alone.

OK, this works for a day but probably not months, which is what I currently have in mind. Just change the descriptive term from blobbing out to sabbatical and try these ideas. Tell your family that you no longer need measurable accomplishment. Tell them you plan to just “be” instead of “do.” If they don’t understand, tell them you are creating an extended home spa experience, having a midlife crisis or whatever story would appeal to their values.

In this state you will only be able to keep one room clean; they will have to do what they can. If this is unacceptable hire someone to come in and shovel or sweep one time a week. It’s worth it given what stress counseling will cost you sooner or later if you don’t take a time out now.

Call all your ambitious friends (I have two) and tell them you are going on a deep psychic journey so you may seem a little vague for a few months. Figure out how to survive at work, don’t announce your plans, just be quieter and move a little slower. Don’t sweat small stuff, set priorities, be fully present for your co-workers and meetings but not tense. Do not do more than one thing at a time if you can help it. Wear something that reminds you that this is a sabbatical, like flannel underwear under your work clothes or soft shoes and socks. Try to arrange three-day weekends or a later coast into work every morning. I know there are limits, but this is not just a physical rest - this is a state of mind.

Don’t participate in tense conversations about politics or gossip about anyone. Think about crocheting or some form of hands-on art. I’m doing mosaics. Stay away from unhappy people. You do not have to counsel or please the discontented during your sabbatical. Stop watching television or reading the paper; listen to NPR if you must have news. Drop out of the stock market and stop buying most things. Give up catalogs, announce a minimal presents holiday and a potluck Thanksgiving.

Notice any sources of tension and fix them; a new route to work, a new bedtime to get more rest, minimize coffee, If anything produces tension try to give it up or avoid it. Stretch your body all the time so you don’t lock up. It’s easier to stretch if the popcorn bowl on your chest has a wide bottom.

Imagine yourself lying next to those working furrows. You are on the edge of the field. You are no longer being ploughed or harrowed, you are sprouting weeds and wild flowers. Your slugs and bugs have gone to sleep, your moles are hibernating. Close your eyes, wiggle one more time and submit.

The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = Jennifer James The Spokesman-Review