The idea that “doing nothing” is a skill that can be learned may seem disconcerting at first. Surely it’s just a matter of stopping doing something else? However, that’s much easier said than done. It has long been recognised – by everyone from the Buddha to John Keats – that “doing” can be a kind of compulsion, an addiction that is only not recognised as such because society at large praises us for it. In fact, learning to do nothing might be the most vital skill for thriving in our frenetic, overwhelmed, always-connected culture.
1. “Doing nothing” doesn’t really mean doing anything
Assuming we are not dead, we are always doing something, even if we are savoring the pleasures of idleness. (For psychologists, this savoring is far from passive: it is a set of learnable skills for enjoying the moment, for example, by focusing on each of our senses.) But what is generally meant by “doing nothing” is doing nothing useful. The problem is that “useful” is defined in ways that do not always serve our interests. Working harder to earn more to buy more stuff is useful to the people selling the stuff, but not necessarily to the buyer. And utility is intrinsically future-oriented: it rips you out of the present, making savoring impossible. So perhaps “doing nothing” is synonymous with feeling alive.
2. Uselessness, rest and even boredom can boost creativity
There’s a good reason why many celebrated authors and artists incorporate long walks into their daily routines. One is the well-studied “incubation effect”: Taking your focus off a project seems to give your unconscious the permission to get to the goal. (In one study, people who knew they’d be returning to a creative thinking task after a break did much better when they resumed it, as opposed to those who didn’t expect to return to the task — suggesting it was an unconscious process, not simply taking a break, that made the difference.)
Other studies looking at boredom (in one, participants were asked to copy numbers from a phone book) suggest that it motivates people to find interesting ways to relieve boredom – thereby generating creative ideas. Meanwhile, aimless thinking combats the tunnel vision that can result from goal fixation. When you don’t have an end in mind, you’re less likely to dismiss new ideas as irrelevant.
3. Too much activity is counterproductive
We chronically confuse effort with effectiveness: A day spent doing menial tasks feels exhausting and virtuous, so we assume – often wrongly – that it must have been useful. Worse still, writes Dutch work expert Manfred Kets de Vries, busyness “can be a very effective defence mechanism to ward off disturbing thoughts and feelings.” It is when we do nothing that we finally confront what really matters.
4. The brain depends on downtime
Since the industrial revolution, we have treated human beings like machines, assuming that the way to get more done is to push ourselves, or others, to keep going for longer. But neuroscientists are increasingly finding that our brains rely on downtime, not just to recharge batteries but to process the data we are inundated with, to consolidate memory and reinforce learning, strengthening the neural pathways that make such feats possible. In one 2009 study, brain imaging suggested that people faced with a strange task—controlling a computer joystick that didn’t obey the usual rules—were actively learning this new skill during seemingly passive periods of rest.
5. Regain control of your attention
Don’t expect doing nothing to be easy at first: Resisting the urge to do things takes willpower. According to meditation instructor Susan Piver, “idling is seen as a form of laziness” — it’s a failure to give due attention to the emails, tasks, or web pages that demand your attention. The challenge has never been tougher: The modern economy, especially online, is a battle for your attention. But the good news is that learning to do nothing will help you regain control of your attention in other situations, too. One trick: Schedule “do nothing,” like you schedule tasks. Just don’t expect others to understand when you decline some social event on the grounds that you’re busy not being busy.
Translated from theguardian.com