Thoughts About Stillness.

Why is it so hard to just sit around and do nothing?

Have you ever forced yourself into boredom and found out you were just too restless to sit around and do nothing all day? If the answer is yes, welcome to the club. You can fill out the application to join the hyperactive association by calling 1-800-I CAN'T SIT STILL; a beginner starter pack filled with a cozy blanket, a comfortable couch and a collection of lobotomizing TV series will be delivered right to your doorstep. 
If these items will not be successful in their purpose of transforming you into a couch potato, you will be eligible for a refund and you can return the medley of objects back to the factory. Though, we truly hope we can help you slow down and take some time to not do nothing. 

If the above introduction spoke to you, let me tell you a short–yet relatable–story as the founder of the club. 
After ten years of relentlessly jumping from job to job, country to country and trying to cram as many activities as possible in my agenda before my bedtime of 10PM, last July I decided to dedicate my summer break to doing absolutely nothing. For nothing I mean the literal sense of the word. No reading, no writing, no thinking about ideas that would add to my already endless list of goals to achieve or boxes to tick off in order to feel like I found success in life. I wanted to live like teenage Naomi at the mercy of my mother. No alarm clock, no fancy dressing up, no cooking for myself.

I was so extremely burnt out by the “professional” marathon I had been running up until then, that the idea of an unproductive time similar to my childhood, no responsibilities in sight, brought me ultimate joy.

If parlaying on a white Sicilian beach admiring the crystal clear sea in front of me while eating flavorful delicacies or fresh fruits to the sound of waves crushing against the water edge was dreamy, my obsessive need to do something crept up and broke the enchantment fairly quickly.
The idyllic scenario I had constructed in my head before temporarily leaving my Milanese life behind came down at the beginning of the second week of my trip, when, after forcing myself to “just be” like a lizard under the sun, my mind started hyperventilating.
The moment a sheer sense of boredom started pervading my body, I panicked.

The idea of not using my intellect for anything more than hitting the Nespresso machine button in the morning and texting my mom what I wanted for lunch sent me spiraling to the point I had to take a look in the mirror and motivate myself into believing that it was ok to be still after living such a hectic life.
It is worth noting that due to my ambitious personality and inability to be in the moment, even when I could have sat around and basked in emptiness, like during the strictest period of the COVID-19 lockdown, I used to set an alarm for 6AM and stuck to a very rigid morning routine, no matter if I actually had work or not.
You can say I am a bit of a maniac when it comes to being idle. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I am an overachiever, or if it is the concept of hard work that was instilled in me since a very young age, but I never thought of vacations–or breaks, or weekends–as a time to do nothing and just rest.
I am the type of person who wakes up at the crack of dawn looking for–mostly urban–adventures.
You can understand a relaxing beach trip is not what I usually aim for when choosing how to spend my summer, or any time off.
But what does resting mean anyways? I feel like it’s a fairly subjective concept molded by a person’s own way to decompress. 

At the end of the second week away from my busy work life, I had already failed in my intent to learn how to be bored and be okay with it. 
Consequently, I picked my laptop up and, quite meekly, started checking my emails.
Needless to say, as any person who sets a goal and completely strikes out, guilt sat on my left shoulder whispering demeaning adjectives into my ear, prompting me to shut the device down. 

As I scrolled through my spam clogged mailbox looking for something juicy that would justify my “come back”, I noticed my leg was shaking in agitation. I was tweaking. Ashamed, I gasped and pushed my iMac away. “O M G, am I addicted to work?????????”, I thought to myself. 

I checked the clock, it was the middle of a sweaty–one of the sweatiest–afternoons I had experienced in a while.
My dog Gucci was panting, as he usually does when my mother is not around. Was the sound of his anxiety giving ME anxiety? I stood up and walked over to the fridge, maybe a glass of cold sparkling water would cool my spirit down and scroll my need for action away. 

While the punchy bubbles did, for a second, take my mind away from the battle between the promise to do nothing and the visceral need to be active, it wasn’t long before I found myself angrily checking every app on my phone for a hit of dopamine–a reason to exist. Once again, I had to restrain myself. 

Given that I still had three weeks to go before a friend would come visit me and distract me from my own thoughts, I had to come up with a plan not to become a groggy pest; otherwise I would have kept getting the ick. 

First step, I grabbed my tiny pet and took him downstairs for a walk; that would take me away from electronic devices and the sick craving for productivity.
Second step, I turned the AC on in hope it would lower my body temperature and relax my instincts to break my digital detox. Third and last step, it was time to meditate. 

I began telling myself that if Buddhist monks could sit still for hours and just get lost in the silence of their own breath for days at a time, why couldn’t I do it for a very limited period of time?
I pulled up my Medito app (a great tool for people like me, who are unable to meditate on their own and need guidance–no, this isn’t a sponsored ad), put my headphones in and picked a 5 minutes meditation session.
When the gentle instructing voice told me I could finally open my eyes as the exercise was coming to an end, my head felt pleasingly refreshed and calm. My need to “do” was gone.
And so here I was, making it a requirement to start my day with a 5 to 10 minutes gratitude sitting, with no intention aside from clearing my head from any intrusive thoughts. 

My off days immediately became more manageable. I definitely didn’t feel the need to fight back the urge to entertain myself with external tools.
I began respecting my automatic “Out Of Office” responder and I allowed the red bubbles on my mail app to pile up.
Had I finally learned how to accept stillness? Not quite, however, I did allow my brain to decompress and slow down; to catch a weft of fresh air.
Instead of waking up in the morning and reaching for my phone right away, I made it a point to let the sunlight naturally graze my face and extend its good morning greetings—soaking it all in.
I took my bike and struggled my way to my favorite little bay where internet signal was scarce and the only companion was the chatter of other people discussing the latest.
As I silently sat on a rock, drying up from the salty waters, I felt in the moment. I was allowing myself to be still and do nothing without resentment. It felt fantastic. 

Once I yielded to “nothingness”, the sour feeling of unworthiness I had succumbed to during the early stages of my sabbatical leave faded away. And while I doubt I could ever just lay back and be a slouch as a form of self-care, I–at least–have accepted that stillness doesn’t mean missing out on opportunities, nor is it a waste of time.
Being still means finding our own personal way to heal the ruptures generated by our daily frenzy.

---

Some interesting links about the above topic:

📖 Read: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving
📖 Read: How to Embrace Doing Nothing

📖 Read: Why Doing Nothing is Actually One of the Best Things You Can Do

👩🏻‍🔬 A bit of science: The Benefits of Doing Nothing

🔬 Try: Do Nothing For 2 Minutes

📹 A cool video about doing nothing: