My wife left the most interesting, entertaining article on our coffee table this week for me to read. “The Fine Art of Piddling” appears in this month's issue of Southern Living magazine. The writer, Rick Bragg, who you may recognize as a Pulitzer-prize winning author, shares his view that piddling, or “the act of passing time, without waste or regret, is a cause well worthy of lifelong study.” The author's humorous slant and personal expertise in piddling is really fascinating. I was especially fascinated with his perspective that piddling may involve the use of tools, “but only small, light ones” and certainly not for any useful purpose or out of necessity. The author also draws a distinction between disparate views on piddling within his own marriage. Bragg brags about his formidable forays into piddling, while his wife spends her free time more wisely upon useful pursuits. The author implies that his wife might even look down upon piddling.
I have been left thinking about this art of passing time without waste or regret. In my own experience, piddling is not sitting idle but rather a slow, active pursuit of doing nothing. I have quite a few master piddlers in my family, but my wife is keen to point out my own mastery of the art. Interestingly, this pastime is reserved only to men in my clan, but I do not know if it conforms to any special demographic classifications on the larger scale. I am considering running a research study that attempts to correlate piddling—the quality and frequency of it—with longevity and health-related quality of life. My hypothesis is that very busy people may subconsciously turn to piddling during rare moments of reprieve as an act of restoring homeostasis. This is clearly why I pursue it. My own life, probably like yours, is very full professionally. The physical and emotional demands of clinical practice, administration, and parenting are sometimes all-consuming. I am caught a bit off-guard by the realization that I have scheduled time for piddling during the course of my professional life. Rather than get an extra hour of sleep, I often set the alarm so I might enjoy an hour of doing nothing. I really place great value on these moments. I have noticed that if I fill these moments with emails, reading the latest clinical trial results, or attending to some household repair, the rest of my day is considerably less enjoyable. These moments of doing nothing seem to help prepare me for the rest of my day, which usually contains no more than 15 minutes when I'm not doing something necessary or purposeful.
As I read the article by Bragg, I am now concerned that I may be commercializing my piddling. In fact, there is some possibility that my piddling is becoming something that is … well … not piddling. As I do more writing and creative work on scholarship and curriculum development projects, I have found that moments of piddling provide a means for my creative juices to start flowing. The ideas that are translated into work during my workday most often are formed during my quiet moments in the early morning, when I am rearranging things (that don't need rearranging), inspecting things around the house (that don't need inspecting), or tinkering with things (that are in good working order). Each of us has a process for problem solving. We exercise our creative senses through different processes. As I reflect, I realize that I always think about a project and let potential solutions form, tell myself any story before I sit down to write it, and daydream better strategies to manage complex drug therapy regimens or ways to avoid drug-injury among older adults. I find it peculiar that I can so regularly create and enjoy these calm, quiet moments, when I am just the opposite in my professional life—always in a hurry, driven, and wanting more and more out of the people around me. I fear that if I lost my piddling, I might require some more exhaustive intervention, like yoga, meditation, or even a “better life through chemistry” approach. Piddling, a daily dose of omega fatty acids, and an annual health screening seem to form the major foundation of my preventive health care plan. I am left to wonder how many other PAs are master piddlers. Could it be a strategy for better health?
Reamer Bushardt is professor and chair of the Department of Physician Assistant Studies, School of Medicine, Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center, Winston-Salem, North Carolina. This blog post expresses his personal views and does not express or represent the views or policies of AAPA.