How many times do you sit still, quiet your mind and do absolutely noting?

If anyone would ask me that question, I might answer by saying, "Who would want to?"I don't like to sit still. And I sure don't like to do "absolutely nothing." I am happiest when I'm active.As for quieting my mind, that's even harder than sitting still.I've tried meditating, which of course requires sitting still and quieting my mind. I've worked at it, I really have. But the most I can manage, even after much effort, is quieting my mind for moments, not minutes - at least not many minutes.Before long, my mind wanders, no matter how hard I work at trying to keep it open to meditation.How do you manage to think about nothing? I don't know, so I guess that's why I fail at meditating.It's the same way when I go to yoga on the beach. I'm fine when we are doing the stretches and the gentle yoga moves. But there always comes the part where we are told to clear our mind, lie still and just breathe in the peace.Lata, the instructor, has a mesmerizing voice as she encourages us to relax every part of our body. At the end of each class, she does the relaxation part where we are supposed to clear our minds, letting go of all plans, letting go of all cares, forgetting all schedules."Relax and just be," the instructor tells us.That part of the class is so relaxing that some people say they fall asleep.I do relax and I do try to clear my mind. But within moments I'm slapping my leg because an ant is crawling on it. Then I'm thinking about the big pink blanket at home that might be better than my yoga mat.Or, when I'm trying to "just be," as we are instructed, my stomach will growl, reminding me that I haven't have dinner. Then my mind starts wondering if I have to stop at the store on the way home, or, if I have something at home to make for dinner.See that - I just can't empty my mind.I interviewed an author this week who told me she is able to concentrate on writing only when she goes out on the sailboat with her notebook, away from all distractions. Bobbing for hours out on the water, she finds the inspiration she needs to quiet her mind and let her creative thoughts flow."I can't really quiet my mind at home," she says, "because when I try another project will pop into my mind."I understood what she meant.There are special times that I am able to sit still doing absolutely nothing except enjoying the quiet and the nature around me.I had one of those experiences this week when I took my husband on a three-day trip to Cedar Key for his birthday. Surrounding by a bay and marshland on one side and the waters of the gulf on the other, Cedar Key, Florida, is a nature lover's paradise.Those who ask what is there to do in Cedar Key probably shouldn't go if they are looking for action. It's a boaters and bird watchers paradise. But that's about it. The only night life there is in the summertime involves watching the sun look like it's dipping into the water while shore birds fly past on their last flight of the night.While some will want more action, I inhale the peace and beauty of the place and I'm content. After a day on the water with our kayaks, my husband and I had an early dinner and went back to our cottage on the bay.Always one who needs to know what's going on in the world on any given day or hour, he settled down inside with his computer and the television.I headed out on the screened porch and was quite happy to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I didn't move from the glider and my mind didn't think about anything except the pleasure of being filled with peace while I enjoyed the little slice of nature within my vision.I watched the sun sink lower, then color the sky with the special effects of a sunset over water. Tonight the Master was painting the sky with a pastel pallette.I was still but all of my senses were alive. I felt the kiss of a light breeze on my face and watched the ripple effect of a few raindrops plopping on the water.When the tide withdrew, leaving behind the muddy surface at the edge of the bay, I saw a small head emerge from the mud. Intrigued, I saw the head followed by a little body as a baby snake skittered through the mud.When a grown-up snake came into view I had enough of nature and went inside. But that time of "doing nothing" remains a sweet memory of tranquillity.I do have wonderful feasts of nature when I sit in solitude before a sea. But it's hard anymore to find a quiet, deserted beach where nature is the only star.Nature, for me, is best enjoyed in solitude.It's that solitude that helps me rediscover the wonder of "doing nothing" except appreciating the beauty of life.Contact Pattie Mihalik at

newsgirl@comcast.net.