Sitting is an art that isn’t getting passed along. People these days feel as though they have to be doing something. If they’re not working, they’re jogging, or playing tennis or golf, or taking courses to improve their minds and bodies. Or, they’re parked in front of the TV. Sitting in front of a TV isn’t sitting, it’s watching.

People used to sit a whole lot. You’d walk down the street, or drive down the road, and there they’d be out on the porch, sitting. Or, you could go down to the store and sit on the bench out front in the summer or around the pot-bellied stove in the winter.

There were sitting benches out on the courthouse lawn. At the garage, there were straight-backed chairs. There, among all the oil cans and windshield wiper blades, you could kick back and sit.

Houses used to have sitting rooms where the grownups would go after Sunday dinner. Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Aunt Ruby would sit and digest the fried chicken, and talk about Aunt Ethel’s gallstones, and how good the preacher did today. Outside, the children would play and the afternoon would drift by in a comfortable haze.

That sort of thing looks like doing nothing. A recharging battery doesn’t look like it’s doing anything either. Sitting restores your soul. If you want to enjoy