The Value of Doing Nothing

I belong to a Men’s Group at a local church that has a paradoxical mission. Our group strives to do ... nothing. This goal is not a surprise to our wives or significant others. We have no agenda, no curricula, and no program. We seldom start on time. No one brings food. Sometimes somebody will bring a six pack of beer to share. We do make one concession to structure: We start each meeting with a time for individuals to “check in.” This is a brief time for members to introduce a topic or to talk about something important that may have occurred since the last meeting. Sometimes we never move beyond check-in. When we do, someone always has an issue to get us started.

About once a year someone from the church where we meet will ask us to do something. We have been asked to work in soup kitchens and to work on fundraising activities. Once we were even asked to lead a Sunday service. So far, we have respectfully but firmly declined. I do not think we decline because we are lazy. We decline because we already participate in groups that do things. We give much of our lives to job-related teams, volunteer organizations, church committees, family activities, and other collections of people that have needs or demands. Our Men’s Group is the only group that we have ever joined that has no expectations or requirements.

However, over 14 years of getting together we have talked a lot. We have shared our childhoods. We have talked about our fathers and our relationships with them. We have asked each other questions about our wives and how various marriages do or don’t work. We have had gay men share their relationship problems, which sounded just like the relationship problems of the rest of us. We have listened to men going through divorce. We have listened and advised younger (and sometimes older) men on “dating issues.” We have listened to our fellow group members describe periods of deep depression. Some of us have sought advice about dealing with various other physical or mental illnesses. We have all talked and listened a lot. Through it all we remain committed to the principle of not doing anything.

We do not do anything, but I have observed that not doing anything can be enormously helpful. About a year ago, one member of the group was diagnosed with terminal cancer. This man’s circumstance trumped any other issues or needs for the group for several months. His ability and willingness to describe the physical and emotional details of his experience was a gift. He shared details about the mystery of dying that most of us never have access to. He trusted us enough to let us support him during this strange time. We did not do anything, but one of us did manage to help out around his house so his wife could get away for a while. We also had a very funny poker game at his house a few weeks before he died. The group did not do anything, but we were never the same.

Note: This essay was published a couple of years ago in the Urban Hiker, a now-defunct magazine in Durham.