When Larry Walters was thirteen, he noticed some 7-foot weather balloons in an army/navy store, and dreamed of  filling them with helium and flying aloft . The dream stayed with him. When he was thirty-three, he bought forty-two used weather balloons to fill with helium. He donned a parachute and strapped himself into a Sears lawn chair, and had friends tie the balloons to his chair. They also strapped on containers holding a six-pack of beer, a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, a camera, and a BB gun, to shoot the balloons one at a time when he was ready to land.

Bu the 7-foot balloons were much more buoyant than Walters expected. He and his crew were caught off guard when the tether, tied to the bumper of his jeep, actually snapped, and he shot up into the air before he was ready, and  much higher than he expected.  This is true - a TWA pilot flying at 16,000 feet reported to air traffic controllers that his jetliner had just passed a guy sitting  in a lawn chair and holding a rifle!  The airport sent a helicopter up to look.

Walters shot ten balloons before accidentally dropping the gun.  He remained airborne for more than two hours, part of it in the flight path of the Los Angeles International Airport, forcing them to shut down while he was in their air space.

Soon after he was safely grounded and cited by the police, reporters asked him three questions:
"Where you scared?" "Yes."
"Would you do it again?" "No."
"Why did you do it?"  "Because," he said, "you can't just sit there."    

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"Action and Inaction"

Nowadays when people ask you "How are you? " a fairly common answer, is a harried, "Busy!" to which the person asking will often be a knowing nod that implies, "Me too," For many, our American lifestyle has ratcheted up to the point where there is barely time to perform tasks that have long been considered  basic to a civilized life. Today families don't make the time to eat together.  For many of us sitting down and talking on the phone is outmoded - we have to be able to move around, wash dishes, clean, while we talk.  Likewise, the ritual of settling down to read the newspaper is becoming antiquated … Even so, I think we can all agree that reading or talking while on the move hasn't the same effect on the nervous system as settling down.)

We tend to think of our persistent busyness as the inescapable pace of the times. But English clergyman Thomas Fuller back in the 1600's remarked that it was possible to be very busy and yet do nothing.  Let's face it - keeping  busy helps human beings to feel productive.  I'm sure there were cave men and women who were busy, busy, busy, too, just wanting to be productive.

It's easy to understand why we humans are so quick to unwittingly sacrifice ourselves on the altar of busyness, even if at the same time it makes us feel overworked and harried. Not only do we like to feel productive, humans have always had a certain distrust of too much free time - it's dangerous. 

We can get into as much trouble from  having too little to do as too much. "Be doing always something, that the devil catch thee not at leisure,"  one old adage goes.  Another warns that "The devil will find work for idle hands." Poor Richard's Almanac 1758 warned that, "Sloth, by bringing on Diseases, absolutely shortens Life."  An 18^th century observer said, "discontent that arises from sheer boredom [ennui] has led to more gamblers than avarice, more drunkards than thirst, and perhaps as many suicides as despair," I suspect, was right on target.

Today we are well aware that having too much time on our hands can spell trouble.  Parents worry, rightfully, that children with too much unstructured time will end up hanging out on street corners, doing drugs, or otherwise getting into trouble.

Although conventional wisdom extols the virtue of free time, many of us don't know what to do with it when we get it. We can get so used to our time being filled and structured that, as soon as there's nothing official to do, we get antsy. The result is that many of us fill up potential free time with lessons,  trips and to do lists, so that it is full of activity - one sad result is that some of us have trouble knowing who we are apart from what we 'do'. A character in a novel by Anthony Cook said, "Leisure's like a mirage. Lovely when it ain't there.  When you are, it's a desert, right?" What a cogent observation that is.  This is why so many people struggle with retirement, experiencing it, uncomfortably, as enforced idleness.

The ideal of true leisure is neither idleness or busyness. Writer Sandy Carter says:  "Leisure is the relatively free place where people attempt to realize who they are. The space of "free time" is where the physical and emotional damage of work is repaired, the place where people relieve all the piled up unmet needs of rest, fun, creativity, critical thinking, and social connection.  In sum, leisure is the location of a struggle to become more human."

You might wonder whether the kind of positive free time that Carter talks about in which we strive to relieve our unmet human needs will more  likely be trouble and temptation-free.  And the answer is not necessarily.  The marvelous if misguided flight of Larry Walters is proof of both a certain quality of leisure and the idea that idle hands can get one into trouble.  But his story captures people's imaginations precisely because his was, in some ways, an all-too human adventure - he was creatively, pursuing his dream. I think that's what he meant when he said you just can't sit there.  Life requires, "action", and life requires some "leisure" in which to become more human. 

Finding the right level of activity requires awareness and a sense of balance. Most of us tend to one side or another -  our struggle may be more with being idle or with being too busy. The symptoms of any imbalance we can usually put up with - you may be a little more harried or lonely or stressed than you need to be. 

But, right now, when the inhumane images of war are an incessant, dark, despair-producing backdrop against which we live our days,  it becomes especially important to be self-aware.  As anxiety about the war heightens everything  our level of personal tension is naturally up. The strain caused by the incessant busyness of our lives can contribute indirectly to depression and despair.  Spending too much idle time watching war coverage on television, in the same way, be harmful, leading to feelings of depression and hopelessness. It is good to be aware of our own tendencies.

The cover story of yesterday's Living Arts section in the Globe offered some observations on how people are trying to control their wartime anxiety.  The reporter said individuals are trying to strike a balance between the Old Normal and the New Normal in different ways.  He observed that some felt the need to do something to re-assert control - they were buying candles, batteries, bottled water and even duct tape. Therapist, Dr. David Barlow said that it matters little whether what they're doing actually reduces the danger, as long as they're doing something.  Others remained unfazed, saying they weren't going to change their lifestyle, because it not only would not make them safer, it would also play into the mind games of the enemy.

Our tendencies will remain, of course. But this is a time when self-awareness is especially important. This is a time to live more deliberately than usual. If you have too much to do and feel yourself becoming frantic or despondent, pare down what you're doing. Balance your work and play. Your inactivity, too, should have a quality about it.  You may need to sit on the couch eating potato chips for a short while, but don't get stuck there for long. (That's the sloth that Poor Richard says creates disease.)  If you want an update on the war, turn the television on, but don't make an evening of it.  Recognize if you are in a rut and try to break it. Splurge. Buy some fresh flowers for your kitchen table. Make plans even if that's not your usual pattern. Invite a friend to lunch or go to a movie. Help someone else who may be in the same boat you're in. The spring days are more beautiful and renewing than you may realize.  Take a walk. 

These are the small practical things that we can do.
But there are other things you can do.   

In the quiet moments, you can lift up your eyes to the to the sky overhead
and be grateful for the depth of its mystery.
Remember how many mornings passed before the date of your birth
and that you are just a small part of a vast panorama.

In the quiet moments, lift up your eyes to the mystery of life.
Let your soul be flooded by the beauty and tenderness you have witnessed.
Do not forget the beauty of the trees, the wonder of a seed or the mystery of birth. Be awake to the extraordinary gifts you have received
in the forms of colors, movements, sound and touch.

In the quiet moments, lift up your eyes to the mystery and power of love
and be grateful that you have known its penetrating call.
Know that this is a time, not to close down to humanity, but to open - in tears, in pain and in sadness.
Remember that Love is your guide.

In the quiet moments, let your heart be open
to the Spirit, the Sacred, the Holy, however you name it.
And remember that the world has witnessed time and again
that there is a power that has the capacity to make all this new.