I’m lucky, in that I can take about a month off between my most recent job, at the Star-Banner in Ocala, Fla., and my next position, at the St. Petersburg Times, also in the Sunshine State. That time is now passing in Michigan, visiting girlfriend and family.

Idleness. The Uncarved Block of time. I dedicate this month to those concepts. Deliberately, the block is (mostly) uncarved. The busy-busy of U.S. culture and norms makes idleness an ideal to shoot for, though rarely achieve. What nicks and scrapes I do have in my “uncarved” month of time are of my own passion and interest.

A few things earning my focus:

• A long weekend up north. The concept of “up north” – where you, family, friends and beer coalesce on a campsite or cabin – doesn’t quite translate well in Florida. I’ve missed it. Plus, camping in Florida has the added non-plusses of alligators (in some areas) and bugs the size of small songbirds. Though I haven’t camped there, those two items alone would seem to detract from the experience.
• Books. Funny, when I read at work for eight hours, reading at home loses its luster. My luggage included Roll Over Che Guevara by Marc Cooper, and The Subterraneans by Jack Kerouac. The former introduced me to lefty journalist Cooper, and it appears to be out of print. The latter feeds my recent interest in interracial relationships and their dynamics. That’s not to say I’d liken my Divine Miss K to Mardou, the basket-case of issues Kerouac writes about, but it does give me more context.
• More books. When I travelled to Michigan in mid-July, I visited the four floors of fun that is John K. King Used & Rare Books. That’s where I bought the Cooper book. Also, I found three collections of stories by speculative cynic Harlan Ellison. First on that list is a re-read of Deathbird Stories, a book so dark that, when my friend BS lent it to me years ago, I had to read it in multiple sessions to fend of depression. Sounds like a cheery read, doesn’t it?
• Personal physics. That is, yoga and tai chi. My first tai chi teacher, a small barrel of a man with half-inch thick glasses, had a doctorate in physics. He taught tai chi in the language of vectors and conservation of energy. As far as yoga, I had two years of it with a skillful teacher when I lived in Ypsilanti, Mich., and I miss the personal pinnacle of fitness I enjoyed then.

Not a bad slate. In planning this time off I thought, if I could clear my schedule and do what truly makes me happy, what would that look like. This is pretty damn close.