Lessons from How to Do Nothing: Part 1
TL;DR
Sometimes it takes the freedom to do nothing to realize how deeply ingrained the urge to always be doing something truly is.
My husband took the kids to his parents for part of winter break this week.
Four days home alone with no children?
How sad is it that my first impulse was to clean my 5-year-old’s art space and finallygo through her toys without her around so I could dispose of half the crap she’s collected? (Are your kids mini-hoarders too?)
No, no. That can wait. We’ll do that on day three—after I’ve relaxed some.
Then I got excited to clean out the fridge while listening to a podcast, because I could do it without being interrupted!!!
Then I remembered—I recently got this book that I’ve been hearing is great: How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell.
Okay. Perfect opportunity! I make a fire, cozy up on the couch with my coffee, and open to the first line:
"Nothing is harder to do than nothing."
Damn. This is going to be harder than I thought.
I have so much I want to do—for work, for the family, for myself (please ignore that order).
Four days alone without having to take care of anyone else? A chance to breathe. This is all I’ve been craving, and yet here I am, trying to make my free time as productive as possible.
Anyone else relate?
I got this book for a reason—I want to slow down more, to resist the constant pull of productivity. With everything going on in the world right now, this book feels more important than ever. The constant noise, the urgency, the feeling that we should always be doing more—it’s exhausting.
And yet, even with this rare gift of time to step away, I can feel how deeply ingrained that pull is.
So why does the idea of doing nothing feel so unsettling?
Even as I sit here, book in hand, fire crackling, I can feel the itch to DO. Maybe I should make a cup of tea first. Maybe I should respond to that email that just popped into my head. Maybe I should…
I recognize this feeling. It’s the same one my clients face when they hit their own growth edges. The moment they get close to something they know they need, resistance shows up, loud and persuasive. I coach them through it all the time. And now? Now it’s my turn to walk the talk.
I take a breath, settle deeper into the couch, and read on.
But I won’t lie—I’m still a little afraid of what this book is going to ask of me.
What if I really let go of my to-do list? What happens if I lean into not doing?
I guess we’ll find out.
More soon—if I can make it through without reorganizing the entire house first.