On doing nothing
"I want to let go of the expectation that a life well lived is a live well ‘done’."
In the ebbs and flows of life I move slowly after a rush of activity. Somehow the comparative lack of momentum feels like being stuck, like I’m doing something wrong, like I should be moving forward with more haste. Others’ questions like ‘what have you been up to lately?’ become a source of resistance as I build a wall around my slowness. If no-one else can see it, I think, perhaps they won’t question me further - because ‘doing nothing’ is not an answer I can reveal to such a question.
But why do I see it as ‘doing nothing’? In truth, I have not been doing nothing. I have been living, processing, observing, reflecting, surviving. Waking up later than usual lingering in bed reading a few pages of my book. Walking my dog and taking a while watching the world go by from a bench overlooking the green. Cooking dinner whilst leaning against the kitchen counter and gazing out the window at the clouds passing in the sky.
I want to wake up and feel content with being in my everyday reality - doing the same things, if I wish. I want to let go of the expectation that a life well lived is a live well ‘done’. Striving for new experiences, going to new places, doing new things, just because they are available to me dishonours the slowness I frequently crave inside. The desire to be at home, in nature, and with the people I love.
There will always be space in my heart for the rush. The drive to do. The excitement of finding the next experience. But there is even more room for the slowness of it all. The bits in between that hold me familiarly. This is where I get to stretch out and accept the moment for what it is.
My therapist says I have an intense drive. A drive to do and achieve and prove. She’s right, of course - she is about most things I don’t see in myself until she points them out. I guess I always knew I had a tendency to strive, but I hadn’t reconciled this with how it feels on the inside. How it feels to be constantly driving forward without respite.
Not to demonise working hard and pursuing goals, but what is life made up of if you’re always running away from the present moment? I felt as though I was creating and building, and in some ways I was, but I was also turning my back on the way things were in each moment. If I stopped long enough, embraced the slowness of the moment, I would surely have to face truths I didn’t feel strong enough to tackle.
In this way, my drive is what protected me from looking at painful realities, but it’s also what led to a burnout that forced me to stop. It feels circular in that way. I can run, but eventually the truth of my reality will catch up with me.
I am experimenting with counterbalancing my drive with comfort. I want the slow days, the small moments, the bits in between the big plans to be comfortable. Comfortable doesn’t mean there will be an absence of pain. It means an acceptance of the challenges I see when I stop for a while, and an understanding that I can get through them. It’s like finally opening my eyes to the fact I can’t run, I can’t hide, but I can honour myself.
I find comfort, now, in the littlest of things that in the moment feel like the point of it all. Like reading a good book curled up in bed with warm socks on, my dog lying by my feet. Or shutting my laptop and phone down and putting Little Women on a DVD for an afternoon of escapism. Or walking my dog in the woods listening to my favourite songs. These are the small things that I don’t need to drive myself to do. I could do them a million times and they would continue to comfort me during times of elation and times of challenge.
So when I’m next asked ‘what have you been up to lately?’ I think I will try to answer honestly. Driving forwards, forging paths, proving myself through achievements is not the only way to live a worthy life. Me, as I am, in the quiet moments of comfort I treasure for myself is enough.
Do you have a question you’d like to ask me? Pop it in here and I’ll answer it in our April Q&A.
Thank you, Charlie, for an insightful post.
In 2013, I was diagnosed with cancer. At the time, I didn't yet have my AuDHD diagnosis and was heavily masking. I was so achievement oriented that when I was on the phone trying to schedule an appointment for treatment, I kept saying to the provider, "Oh, sorry, I that time and day won't work for my schedule..." After, a few tries to find a mutual time, the health provider helped me put things into perspective. He said, "It sounds like you're really busy; David, do you have time to live. You were just diagnosed with cancer."
That comment helped to snap me out of my unconscious living.
I believe we get these opportunities whether health crises, burnout, or other life events so we can examine and shift our priorities.
For me, that comment was exactly what I needed. It took nearly three years, but I went through all the holistic and medical treatments and began to face myself and eventually went into remission. The cancer was gone. Now, I had a chance to do life differently.
I wish I could say that I learned my lesson once and for all. Well, old habits are hard to break. Eventually, I had my own burnout which led to my AuDHD diagnosis.
Now, for the past 18 months, I've been truly learning my lessons, healing from decades of shame and trauma, and learning to love myself. I finally got it for myself.
Glad you are able to take time to care for yourself too.
Hello lovely Charlie. I’m a new sub of yours and honestly got Substack just to access your content which I really enjoy and resonate with. I’m in my mid thirties and believe it or not but this is the first time I’ve ever posted a comment on a creators page on any platform. I wanted to share how much I appreciate and relate to your writing and perspective. You’re very good with your words.
About “doing nothing” you are so right. Spring time for me even though I love the rebirth of nature also seems to be a time that highlights productivity. There’s a buzz of activity during this time and with summer approaching, also an urgency to fill up your days with plans and smashing out tasks and if I don’t also do the same, I end up feeling as if I’m “wasting” my time. Not living life the “right way”. And ironically enough it’s with the stress of this pressure that I broke my foot over a month ago because I pushed myself to do something that I was too tired to do. So, here I am forced to take it easy, recovering, and a cautionary tale that if you don’t slow down, you will literally push yourself to the limit where you can injure yourself. <3