Hypocrisy is alive and well. I refer to myself, a workaholic if there ever was one. A reader has sent the article below (from The Daily Telegraph in England), and I am recommending that everyone reads it (slightly shortened for people like me with short attention spans). Notwithstanding my own inability to stop and smell the roses, I am recommending it to those who can. Epicurus, pootling in his garden, picking the odd olive, would heartily concur it:
“This week, a group of Danish scientists suggested that running fast is bad for you. The excellently named Peter Schnohr, a researcher with the Copenhagen City Heart Study, found that running faster than 5 m.p.h “When performed for decades can pose health risks, especially to the cardiovascular system.” With society expending energy telling us to “push ourselves”, “find our limits” and “give 110 per cent”, it is a relief to find that those who amble along at a more genteel pace are doing themselves a favour.
The thing is, pootling has a lot more to recommend it. Not only is it good for your physical health, as the Danes have now shown, it is also good for your mind. I would go as far as to say that pootling, and doing nothing in particular, are forms of what is known in trendy circles as mindfulness. Pootling is a humble form of meditation.
Most of us could happily spend hours pootling. The garden shed provides a wonderful environment for it. Rearrange some tools, wonder whether some of the seeds are past it, think about mending the strimmer, and then decide not to. Take a tour of the garden, make a mental note to cut back the fuchsia, perhaps when the weather improves. You can pootle about the kitchen as well. Put the kettle on, turn the radio on, sweep the floor, sit down for a rest and a cup of tea. Other more traditional forms of pootling include messing about in boats, singing in the bath, playing darts, humming, whistling and talking about plans. Pootling is best when it is done for its own sake, and not with some end in mind.
It could be argued that the invasion of the digital world has cut our opportunities for pootling. The architects of this brave new world live in California, eat protein bars and drink Diet Coke for breakfast and are always in a hurry. They do not pootle. And they are not happy. As Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “devotion to what a man calls his business is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things”. In other words, the busy ones, the strivers, the anti-pootlers, do not have time to stop and smell the roses.
Yet the internet does in fact support pootling of many kinds. Tweeting, clicking on links and – best of all – YouTube can at a stroke disrupt any serious toil.
Copenhagen, from where this research comes, is a great city for pootling. An example is the pace of cycling. Not so long ago, this was a pleasant way of getting from A to B. Then something happened. These days, (British) country lanes and parks have been invaded by Lycra-clad middle-aged men pretending that they are in the Tour de France. They even overtake cars in that former haven for pootling, Richmond Park, which they have turned into a racetrack. Well, you won’t see such madness in Copenhagen. There everyone cycles, but they do it slowly. They enjoy the process. They do not compete.
And that is what pootling is all about: being in the moment, enjoying life and taking time out from the race. No wonder it’s good for your health. (Tom Hodgkinson is the editor of ‘The Idler’)