The Art of Doing Nothing

There is a book in this house that sits by my bed. It is called, “The Art of Doing Nothing.” When I saw it there yesterday, I glanced at the cover and did not give it another thought, too busy being exhausted from five days in Mexico City. I went to bed last night with the stress of being in another country while my child coughed incessantly, had diarrhea, and threw up… pretty much simultaneously. However, my ever-optimistic husband promised me it would all be better in the morning. I hate to admit it, but when it comes to things like this he is usually right.

Low and behold, this morning we were all well rested, Pilar felt much better, and we set out for a day with no plans except to find breakfast. As it turns out, ‘the art of doing nothing’ is exactly what we stumbled upon and it was truly the most glorious day.

We passed several old, gigantic, ornate doors advertising breakfast and on a whim chose door number three…Juan’s Café. It was a small, airy café adorned with plants, art, and an inconspicuous guitar player in the corner who softly entertained us with an acoustic set of the Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Bossa Nova classics. The food was amazing and the relaxed atmosphere beckoned us to stay for a good hour and a half. After breakfast we leisurely strolled down cobblestone streets and alleyways looking at art and local crafts. When Pilar announced that she needed a bathroom NOW, we ducked into a Starbucks we spied on a corner with the idea that surely they had a decent bathroom. Two hours later, we were still sitting in an amazing adjoining outdoor courtyard making art and listening to music. Marty gave us an art project and we sat there chatting and drawing to our heart’s content.

We left with the intention of going to a nearby art museum, but were quickly sidetracked by an indoor artisan market advertising an exhibit called “Prison Art.” Well, we never even made it to that gallery because inside the building was a restaurant showing a friendly U.S.A. and Germany soccer match on T.V. We sat for another two hours drinking beverages that rhyme with cheer while the girls downed their new favorite culinary delight… guacamole con totopos. Marty was screaming at the T.V. like a true soccer fan and as all three of them sat there with their favorite soccer jerseys on, we were asked on more than one occasion where we were from. The looks of shock when we said “Tejas” were priceless.

We finally headed back to the casita for a little nap, and then ventured out again in search of an art store and dinner. Again, we found our destination with ease and on the way back to the center of town we stumbled upon a tiny café called Vía Orgánica.   We figured a little healthy food wouldn’t hurt, so we walked inside and found the same guitar player that we met at breakfast. It turned out to be the most delicious food yet and the two for one specials were icing on the cake. We patiently waited for our meal while drawing in our sketchbooks and enjoying another round of acoustic guitar. When dinner was almost over, a woman who had been sitting next to us the entire time approached our table. She felt the need to congratulate Marty and I on being such wonderful parents. Apparently, she had not seen a family eat out together without the use of electronic devices in a long time and was moved by the fact that we spent time together without them. She told us that last summer she had taken her grandchildren on a trip to San Miguel and was so disgusted with the amount of time they spent on their phones that she vowed to never do it again. She said she was proud of us and to keep up the good work. I actually got a little teary-eyed, I mean when complete strangers give you compliments on your parenting, that can’t be a bad thing.

We finished out the evening playing a heated round of cards on the terrace as we watched the sun set. On the whole, we really did absolutely nothing today and it was fantastic. I look forward to doing nothing again tomorrow!