Rest, Repose, Respite

Rest I know not lest in slumber.  I cannot enjoy being indolently in repose; I feel rested when I am engaged in doing what I enjoy doing. 

I don’t believe I am exceptional in finding boredom tiresome and tiring, nor in finding an obligatory work exhausting. The 20-block walk on the way to work might be a drudgery but the same 20-block back from a great show is more likely a swift walk afloat in euphoria.  Time passes without fatigue when the task at hand is enjoyable for, then, it engages. 

I am in no doubt that a restful repose can be engaging, as the Italian “dolce far niente” puts it concisely.  But I understand “far niente” to mean not “doing nothing” but “doing no work or nothing onerous.”  In those years when I sunbathed with devotion, as I did from March to November, mostly in my backyard, I engaged myself intensely in the effort to expose myself to the sun maximally and earn the deepest deep tan as I possibly could; the pleasure, I can vouch, was from this effort and not from the idle repose.    A busy day, for me, is restful; a whole day sitting at home can get exhausting.  No respite in resting.

When I am at last deposed to my rest in peace, I am sure I will get restless.  I will certainly find interesting tasks to keep me busy, or else, I may disturb my resting companions or even haunt the friends left behind.  Is my future a ghostly life, perhaps?