On some days, I’d want to do nothing and learn nothing. I’d want to spend time with a loved one, walk around town and then look at pigeons sitting on a wire, imagining whether the few who sat far away did it because they were disliked by the lot or was it of their own accord. So, I’d do just that, and then end the day with the following thought —nothing spectacular happened today; everything was spectacularly ordinary, and that is fine by me.