Thoughts About Doing Nothing.

Since the Industrial Revolution, we have been convinced that working hard is the only path to success and the key to a good life..but sometimes doing nothing is the solution to all of our problems.

Ciao my friends, old and new ones.

Despite the dormant state of this newsletter, it seems like my olden words continue to resonate with the world of Substack readers. I may not be ranting much anymore but my readership continues to increase. Impressive.

It’s quite the uncanny phenomenon, to open what I once saw as a sophisticated literary quest and find new subscribers—I often wonder what’s their goal. Are they waiting in the dark for my return to digital blabbing, or does the old material I left open-ended suffice?

In any case, my interest for this platform has increasingly dwindled since I put a temporary full stop to my career as a personal essayist and its meanders were filled with charlatans, influencers trying to sell you products from affiliate links and people who really simply needed to start a personal diary. Still, I do sometimes sit back and ruminate on the benefits I reaped from this social media (yes, let’s be honest. This is social media). Writing weekly and launching my ramblings into the ether has massively helped me in the elimination of my imposter syndrome, a condition I am sure many of you are familiar with.

Writing about writing is boring, though. And, today, my intention wasn’t to blow the dust off my rusty keyboard to complain about the state of internet literature. In fact, I’m here for a nobler purpose: To share my thoughts on the old myth that boredom fuels creativity, and that periods of idleness are not only useful but essential for inciting inspiration and feeling less discouraged by the state of things.

At the height of summer, in a moment of deep creative discomfort and disappointment, I found myself experiencing a level of mental emptiness I had not experienced in years. As an antidote to this intellectual atrophy, I began looking for some interesting reads that could accompany me to the beach without being too heavy or brainy.

I needed something light yet stimulating—a book that would help me restore my will to do while teaching me something new. My research was set on the kind of summer read that would help me get back to my projects without dreading the many ugly parts that define of small businesses. You know, like finding the money to keep going, coordinating a team, invoicing and following up with missed payments without reaching the end of the day wanting to partake in the ancient Japanese practice of harakiri. The good stuff!

Eventually, I stumbled across Celeste Headlee’s “Do Nothing: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving”.
Without reading the synopsis, I knew this was the book I needed to buy and pack in my summer bag. The title alone ticked all of the boxes present on my very loose list of requirements. However, there was more to it than a mere feel-good catchphrase, I felt called out by it: Overworking, overdoing and underliving was something I had been partaking in for quite a while. I could, potentially, even quantify it.

Since leaving my last corporate position in 2018, I have been running around like a headless chicken looking for very inconsequential ways to find my space in the world. First freelancing with various companies trying to make a name for myself as a writer-creative-cum-editorial-consultant-whathaveyou, and then, co-founding not one, but two businesses in 2023.

These projects turned out to be somewhat successful, so I should not be complaining. However, I can’t hide the fact that they pushed me further and further away from the few things that I actually enjoy doing: Writing, researching, reading, learning.

It had become crystal clear that I needed to stop for a second and pull myself up and out the quicksands my situation had turned into. I needed to take some time to analyze what was happening to me and my drive, without the constant anxiety of emails, projects and strategizing for the future.

Would this book teach me how to do it? There was only one way to find out.

It would be an understatement to say the book never made it anywhere near the beach. I devoured it the week before leaving for my summer destination. It was a truly riveting read!

The author did an excellent job of balancing the research—including a brilliant retelling of the history of labor and work as we know it and the various rules that come with it—with personal anecdotes. I saw myself reflected in her words time and again.

Just like Celeste, I kept the gas pedal of my professional life pressed to the floor while the tank ran perpetually on empty. How long could I keep this up before landing in a straightjacket? By my calculations, not very long.

My work, social life and personal endeavors all suffered from it. I had even lost my passion for those businesses I had started with so much joy and aspiration.

Social media, including this very platform, had a lot to do with this imminent burnout too. As Headlee writes “Part of our busyness problem is that social media allows us to see the accomplishments of others. It leads us to want to ‘keep up with the Joneses.’ But now, instead of just keeping up with a few friends and neighbors, social media makes us feel like we need to keep up with the world.”

Gosh, did this hit me like a truck driving at full speed!

I’m well aware of the brutal consequences of spending too much time on social media—it’s a topic I find myself bringing up again and again. Yet it’s not so easy to detach from these vicious platforms when it feels like the only way to be recognized is by constantly updating others, haunted by the fear of being left behind or forgotten. Even with over a decade of excellent work and reputation to stand on, it’s surprisingly easy to fall into the trap of the social media illusion. I surely am a victim and totally suffer from Stockholm Syndrome.

Of course the algorithm wants us to incessantly feed the machine with content in exchange for a cheap ego boost. That’s how these media giants make their big bucks. But are we, creative professionals, sure that there is no way out? How do you create good material if 80% of our time is wasted lurking on others and scrutinizing their—often manufactured and polished—success only yo depress ourselves?

Most of the users on social media live in a way we could never reach in a thousand year for multiple reasons. Number one: many of us did not was to be Hollywood celebrities, so why are trying to live up to a new class of D-listers who’d sell their mothers just to get paparazzi’d outside of Carbone? I know I like to sip wine at my favorite bar without continuously looking around to see who may be listening to my conversations or wait to pounce and snap a picture of my wardrobe malfunction.

Even writers, a category once elusive and mysterious, have now become five minute celebrities, banking on their “personal brand” instead of the prestige of their words. I understand the media landscape has vastly changed and only a very minute subset of intellectuals get hefty sums for their op-eds, but where did our dignity go? Everything is an advertorial.

I recently rewatched Lena Duhnam’s GIRLS, with the goal to better understand her twisted mind now that my prefrontal cortex is fully developed. Leaving details of her perversion and the level of mental illness affecting each one of the protagonists aside, I remember sulking raising my eyebrows at the episode where she’s hired by GQ to write for their advertisers section.
Clearly delusional about her position within the magazine, Lena’s character Hannah shut down anyone and everyone who told her she wasn’t “really writing” but just manufacturing consensus for whichever company was sponsoring the article that month.

Season 3 of GIRLS launched only 11 years ago, but that sense of shame projected by Hannah in what is arguably one of the most popular TV series amongst millennial girls has completely vanished from our collective consciousness. Who cares if I have to intellectually prostitute myself if that’s the only way I can make money? Posting about my gifted outfits or recommending the latest beauty serum sent to me by yet another skincare brand is just part of the routine nowadays. More selfies less longform. People are more likely to react to the latest facial treatment than any poems or article one wrote. Consequently, our work brain can never shut down.

Did you know that the five day week and an eight hour work day was introduced by Henry Ford in the 1920s, not because he was a Good Samaritan but because he found out people would be way more productive when not working into exhaustion?!

As a foolish follower of the “productivity” propaganda, I have organized my workday around a full 8 hour schedule (sometimes even longer) since first becoming an active member of the workforce. Even worse, I have often judged others as lazy and “not committed enough” when they decided their brain worked best from 9AM to 12PM, leaving the rest of the day for other—more fulfilling—activities like reading or gardening.

What if I receive an email at 5:40PM? Up until two weeks ago, my brain told me I had to answer immediately otherwise the opportunity would set sail and leave me. Ridiculous! If it did leave me, then it wasn’t meant to be.

Given the state of the creative industry and the economy surrounding this whimsical bubble, trust me when I say not many projects deserve my immediate answer. More often than not, it’s an unnecessary waste of time.

Did you know that child labor laws were NOT introduced because it’s unethical and evil to have literal toddlers on the production line, but because people in power were afraid of mass extinction given the high mortality rates amongst child workers?

I did not know, and my eyes widened when I finished the paragraph where Celeste mentions this. I was woefully ignorant about anything that has to do with modern work culture. Everything is pretty much propaganda pushed by a mix of religious beliefs and people in power. Yes, even religion swindled us into believing working hard is the only way to a good life.

Coming out of a bad break up? Put your head down and work harder than ever! Being successful will really show him what he’s missing out on! Ha! Sad, stressed, unfulfilled in your current position? Double on the hours you work so you can finally reach that promotion you have been dreaming of.

This is the mentality we have been brainwashed with. But ultimately nobody cares about your success if you are a piece of shit, and that promotion really won’t bring you any joy if you are depressed because you forwent the things that are truly important in life.

A passage that particularly stood out for me was this: “There is a wealth of historical data that suggests we prefer a balance of leisure and toil. But we have been convinced through more than two hundred years of propaganda that inactivity is the same as laziness, and that leisure is a shameful waste of time.”

I feel lazy and groggy every time I take some time to rest. Instead of unwinding, my brain reminds me of all the things I will have to take care of when I am back ok and I want to vomit. Since parting ways with the corporate hustle 7 years ago, there hasn’t been a single time I took a trip without my laptop. The incessant need to stay on top of things has ruled my life even in the middle of a suffocating summer when I really should just forget everything and enjoy myself. Without realizing, I drove myself deeper and deeper into the ground, slowly burning my desire to create something that was worth putting out.

For many years, I have operated in overdrive. I thought that if I stopped for even just one day, years of sacrifice and hard work would be lost and I would fall out of the minds of those who were procuring me jobs to secure my livelihood. Even when I had something good to focus on, fear of not being able to make it last kept me chained to a schedule I really did not love.

I guess something clicked right before I discovered Celeste Headlee’s phenomenal book at the end of July. I had reached a point of no return. I was craving idleness. I dreamed of doing nothing, not thinking about anything and just succumbing to lethargy—not in a romantic Italian way, but in a “bear going into hibernation” type of way. Sifting through the pages of that book simply validated what I already knew: In order to produce something worth putting out, one needs to take extensive breaks and allow boredom to emerge.

Of course I understand this may come off as entitled and privileged, I am not blind to the struggle most of the population out there. The vast majority of people need to do multiple jobs to put a warm plate of food on the table, and “taking a break” is often an impossible ask.

Even in places like Italy, where life is fetishized as mindful and slow, the reality of things is slightly bleaker than Instagram makes it seem. The only people taking lengthy breaks belong to the upper class. Although it wasn’t always like this.

According to Anthropologist Marshall Sahlins, our hunter-gatherer ancestors were the “original affluent society” because they met their needs with relatively little labor. They worked approximately 15 to 20 hours a week, and enjoyed a lot of free time. Of course their technology was pretty rudimentary compared to ours, and they couldn't spend their leisure time watching opera or visiting museums, but they had it pretty good when it comes to work-life balance.

In his 1968 essay titled “The Original Affluent Society”, Sahlins writes: “The world’s most primitive people have few possessions, but they are not poor. Poverty is not a certain small amount of goods, nor is it just a relation between means and ends; above all it is a relation between people. Poverty is a social status. As such it is the invention of civilization.”

Wow. As we say in Italy si stava meglio quando si stava peggio (It was better when it was worse—to translate it very superficially).

Going back to Celeste’s book, what hit me is how she discussed productivity and how she was eventually able to withdraw from the rat race—as it’s colloquially know—by implementing very simple and effective rules, such as limiting her time on social media to a few hours a week and, most notably, traveling by train whenever possible. Mind you, Celeste lives in the USA, a place that is not really known of its state of the art train lines.

Unconsciously, I have started doing something similar since relocating to Palermo last year: I ditched my car in favor of something more…uhmm…analog? As long as I can reach my destination on foot and the weather permits, I will walk to my appointments and carry out all of my errands with the oldest means of transportation known to men: My feet. So far, nobody has died or waited hours for my arrival. If anything, I can proudly say I produce 0 carbon emissions in a city where traffic is, well, pretty insane.

We claim to be busy all the time but really, we fill our day with useless actions like scrolling and binge watching series on Netflix until it’s late night and now we won’t be able to wake up at 7AM to work out and read before diving into work. I am so guilty of this and not even a life sentence will redeem me. I even opened my IG a few times since I started writing this essay. I clearly need to reprioritize what I lend attention to.

To be completely honest, I didn’t disengage from social media in the 10 days I spent at the beach after reading the book, however, I was able to unplug the neurons that deal with work-induced anxiety and stress. And I successfully did nothing.

The first few days were incredible. I slept long, I swam in some of the most beautiful waters the Mediterranean has to offer, I connected (and quarreled) with my parents, I read another book and…I allowed myself to get bored.

And let me tell you, boredom is truly incredible. It resets your brain and makes space for very deep thinking. The kind of reflection that is comparable to mystical ascension. I don’t know if it’s because I am getting closer and closer to the middle age, thus becoming wiser and more self-conscious, but the moments immediately after entering this state of ennui offered a window into what I truly want out of life. Spoiler alert: It is not to kill myself trying to achieve goals that stroke my ego in the eyes of others, nor to be successful in a way that does not reflect my personal values.

Of course, I did start to get restless around day 6. The monkey mind crept up on me. I began tossing and turning and picking up my phone as soon as I woke up. I knew I had to keep strong and allow myself to get through the remaining 10 days of recreation, so I began going to swim earlier in the morning. The next 4 days went by in a breeze. I had reached a level of relaxation that I had not experienced in years, maybe even since college. I felt so deeply rejuvenated and detached from my emails and professional life, the idea of going back to it excited me.

As I ease my way back into work—and yes, I know it was only 10 days off but a girl has got to start somewhere—one thing is for certain, I am now fully ready to commit to a new schedule. One where I am actually in charge of how I spend my time and allows me to incorporate research, development and hobbies without being afraid of missing out on emails that are definitely not going to change my life.

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This piece is not supposed to be a self-help guide, rather it’s the product of 10 days of doing nothing. Writing is something I always go back to, no matter how busy or distracted I am—it’s a visceral need. A lot of my endeavors revolve around this practice and I hope to be able to expand my literary mission soon. I have wanted to publish a print collection of essays for a really long time but, so far, I never took it seriously. Same with my father’s biography. After I get those done, I would love to turn the latter into something that can be adapted to the screen. I may be biased, but my father’s life is incredibly cinematic. Sometimes, when he’s recounting his many experiences, I have to stop him and fact check because of how absurd they are.

I do not say these words lightly. My father grew up surrounded by the mafia, in a Palermo that is very different from the city I live in now. His childhood home didn’t have a heating system, he saw people getting shot, he was surrounded by people who were constantly in and out of prison. Yet, he has never lost his love for his birthplace or for life. He left as a teenager, blessed with good feet by the football Gods, to fulfill the dream of my grandfather: For one of his children to become a professional football player. He did just that and with his talent he was able to give me, my sister and our family a life he would have never imagined to have himself.

If I am where I am today, it’s because of the sacrifices my parents made and their unfaltering support, juxtaposed with their teachings about work ethic and never giving up. As an overachiever, I—too often—took this to the next level. I didn’t stop when it was necessary and cried incessantly when things didn’t go my way.

Business isn’t really my biggest talent and I embarked on two businesses completely clueless. They were all just ideas that sounded good and liberating. At times, they turned out to be more of a prison than an exciting personal pursuit and, because I was afraid and ashamed of potential failure, I succumbed to stress and anxiety too easily, consequently demanding too much from those around me.

I am trying to get rid of this way of doing things. Not in a “live, love, laugh” manner, but following my gut and making space for activities that make me excited about going back to creating.

I had almost lost my love for writing. For months, my stomach turned when I looked at any of the many writing softwares installed on my laptop. I didn’t touch my notes or my notebook either, I lost my appetite for it. Even when I wrote texts for friends, I did it not to disappoint them but, deep down, I did not care about the output. They were just words against a white backdrop. Many a time, I submitted the first draft even when I knew I could do better.

This is the first time in a long time I free flow words from my head to “paper” and I am not crippled by self-doubt. I really felt the need to open my laptop and just go with whatever my fingers were releasing. Now, THIS is liberating.

I didn’t think this feeling was ever going to come back to me. Turns out, all I needed to do was nothing for a few days.