The Loitering God Manifesto

On wasting time with dignity, and why it might be the holiest thing you can do

Somewhere out there – in the alley behind your favorite coffee shop, perched on a bench at the edge of the park, or leaning casually against the convenience store wall – lives a god you won’t find in any official pantheon. 

This god doesn’t ask for tithes, penance, or a 10-point productivity plan. He doesn't have a spreadsheet for your soul. His temple is a bus stop with a schedule that never quite lines up. His hymn is the click of a half-melted ice cube in a paper cup. His holy text is oddly elegant graffiti scrawled on the bathroom wall.

I call him the Loitering God. 

And honestly? I think we need him now more than ever.

Who (or What) Is the Loitering God?

The Loitering God is the patron saint of “hanging around.” Of lingering where you don’t technically “need” to be. Of moments that don’t look like much on the calendar but end up meaning so much more than the so-called big-ticket events.

This god is not here for hustle. Don't expect him to make an appearance to bless your 10,000 steps, your inbox zero, or your color-coded planner. Instead, he blesses the cigarette break, the side-street wander, and the leaning-too-long on a railing while your mind drifts far away somewhere, deliciously off-track.

Where other gods might demand sacrifice, the Loitering God simply asks you to waste some time with dignity.

The Holy Articles of Loitering

The Loitering God isn't big on rules and rigid ways of doing things. But if he were inclined to give you a few directives to follow, I imagine they'd read a little like this.

1. Thou shalt waste time without shame

Sit on the curb. Watch ants. Reorganize the fridge magnets into an epic poem. Follow all those weird little urges you get to do something just to satisfy your curiosity. In the Loitering God's world, none of this is a waste.

2. The bench is an altar

Every time you sit without rushing, you consecrate the act of existing in the space you're in. Plastic bench at a bus stop? Sacred. The grass outside the laundromat? Holy ground. 

3. To dawdle is divine

The universe doesn’t need you to move through it at full tilt all the time. Sometimes the most miraculous thing you can do is stall, wander, pause, and see what appears in the gaps.

The Sunset of Another Year

I can't believe Christmas is on Tuesday, nor does it seem possible that it's nearly time to say good-bye to yet another year. My relationships to both my biological and extended families are strained at best (where they're existent at all), so the holidays always bring up some weird feelings for me. However, this year I also have this wonderful feeling of accomplishment to help balance some of that.

I'm realizing that at one point, I got pretty used to feeling like a fuck-up. Every December usually finds me painfully aware of the fact that yet another year has slipped by without my accomplishing anything of note. Anything to be proud of. Nothing I've done to make my life better or truly move forward toward any of the long-term goals I like to claim are so important to me.

But not this year. This year, I can look back on a year I spent diligently improving myself. I've been exercising every day. I've been eating well. I've been taking amazing care of myself, both inside and out. I've been learning, reading, praying, and worshiping. (I am learning German, among other things!) I feel beautiful, and confident, and strong. I can honestly say I am finally growing into a woman I am proud to be and cultivating an image I'm unashamed to show to the rest of the world, either casually or in regards to something that's more serious.

Take last weekend, for instance. I've sort of made friends with one of our Instacart shoppers over Facebook recently and she asked to meet me in person last Saturday. (Normally I do the shopping and handle the orders, but Seth gets the door for the shopper in the event the delivery includes alcohol and needs to be signed for.) I'll probably never be the most voluntarily social person in the world, but it was really nice not to feel like I literally can't show my actual face to anyone because I've let my weight, hygiene, and grooming routine slide too far out of control for too long. Despite wearing boxer shorts and absolutely zero make-up, I felt like a normal human being saying hello to a friend who wanted to see me and that was really nice for a change.

Blood Carrots

Last night, I dreamed I was a carrot. I was planted in a field with a lot of other carrots and tended by farmers that apparently took farming super seriously. To make sure all the carrots grew nice and big, they kept taking animals and even people out to the fields and slaughtering them on the spot so they could fertilize the fields with all the blood. It also rained almost constantly wherever this was.

In the dream, I kept soaking up all the blood and all the rain through the outside of my carrot body and it was weirdly satisfying. Like eating a huge plate of exactly what you've been craving when you're so hungry you think you're going to faint. Also, I never got too warm because my whole body was made of vegetable, safe underneath the surface of the earth. And my carrot top really liked blowing in the breeze. I knew I'd get harvested and eaten one day, but for some reason I was really excited about it.