This time of Coronavirus has had many strange qualities. Not least the sudden swooping suction from our calendars of all social engagements and a dozen commitments.
Work may have grown more complicated or disappeared altogether; Zoom is in danger of becoming a dictionary-defined verb; and real danger lurks or has overtaken many. But suddenly the fine art of doing nothing has been raised to a virtue.
SkyNews in the UK, in attempting a cheerful article, coralled six benefits of lockdown, and I was open-mouthed to see ‘Doing Nothing—And Not Feeling Bad About It’ on the list.
“The Six Benefits of Coronavirus
* The joy of extra family time
*Doing nothing—and not feeling bad about it
* Avoiding the daily commute
* Breathing in cleaner air
* Getting to know your neighbors
* Listening to the birds sing”
An Imaginary Class
It was recently time to write my class description for next school year’s course catalog for the homeschool co-op where I teach.
I was mind boggled at the thought of such normality returning in time for us to gather a group of nearly 300 kids. Planning felt futile and surreal. But with my class idea already proposed and selected, it was supposedly a straightforward task to draw up the text for the catalog.
To warm up my pen, and still incredulous, I decided to have fun and write a fake proposal for the silliest class I could think of, before perfecting the correct copy. And indeed my correct class description was soon submitted.
The pen-warming fake class? “The Fine Art of Doing Nothing.”
For Real
But then I was startled the next day to open Austin Kleon’s weekly newsletter and find the first of his Things Worth Reading link to a book on idleness extolling my ‘class’ content.
I’m now seeing The Art of Doing Nothing in one form or another wherever I look. However tongue-in-cheek my spoof description, there is certainly a truth to explore.
Niksen
The April/May 2020 issue of Flow (the delightful Dutch magazine that ‘takes its time’) explores the Dutch term ‘niksen’ or deliberate act of doing nothing. The article cites Olga Mecking, a journalist living in Holland, whose 2019 New York Times’ article, The Case for Doing Nothing, blossomed into such interest that she has a book coming out on the subject in early 2021.
Both the Flow and NYT articles were written pre-COVID, and relief from busyness—yet in the context of a pandemic—has changed the parameters of the conversation.
However, the discussion is not new.
The energetic G.K. Chesterton famously wrote in “On Leisure” in the Illustrated London News that the term ‘leisure’ was used to describe three different things:
The first is being allowed to do something. The second is being allowed to do anything. And the third (and perhaps most rare and precious) is being allowed to do nothing.
As Witold Rybczynski reflects in Waiting for the Weekend, idleness was, in Chesterton’s view, the truest form of leisure.
Rybczynski’s history of our perception of time and our relationship between work and leisure, is one I’ve pondered for some years. When I first read Chesterton’s statement there, extolling doing nothing as a virtue, it was a shock to my system. You could say, I’m coming around to the idea.
Reflection
“There has never been a generation in the history of the world that has spent less time alone with their minds. Between our cult of focus and our tendency to keep ourselves stimulated by our ever-present devices, what is lost is time to mentally meander, to ruminate and reflect.”
Noticing. Staring. Looking. Considering. What does it mean to ‘do nothing’?
Well it’s the cavalier opposite of the vortex and downward spiral of time wasted online.
To me, it is instead a true freedom of time and mind, a deliberate choice. A space. Freedom also from pressure and rush and hurry; free, for the moment, from deadline and having to be somewhere with not enough time to get there, which of course creeps in easily. But often we have space in our day we are choosing not to own.
It will look a little different for each of us. It is not easily comparable, quantifiable.
But the benefits are universal. A mental health break. Time to connect trains of thought. Room and space inside.
Doing nothing is not about having a perfect freedom, but enough margin in which to enjoy the moment.
I experience this even when driving in Boston. I know where I’m going and can sink down into the moment, noticing piles of Puddingstone, catching the flight or sound of a hawk, a loveliness of sky. The city doesn’t own me or my nerves, though of course it can assault the senses and try to cause me to fret.
Coronavirus, underneath it all, has meant a time of stretched nerves: concern for our health or a specific loved one, discouragement at changed plans, overwhelm at the unknown, or anger at the government.
Can we really enjoy ‘niksen’ at such a time?
A statue in my mum’s garden, in celebration of quietly observing.
‘Yes’ to a Mental Health Break
I believe we can and actually we must find a way.
We can wander. We can walk. We can deliberately take a creative break; look out of the window, lost in thought, look up at the sky or watch the movement of the moon.
We can take time to look up. Or down.
In the words of W.H. Davies’ poem ‘Leisure,’ we can take time to stand and stare. Now, at least, we have tasted having the time.
Resist
I have new deadlines to meet.
The class I railed at writing the description for is not going to meet in person; our homeschool co-op sensibly opted for virtual come September. Now my work is cut out to reconfigure the meeting time and content and method of delivery.
But a shield remains between me and the potential bustle, a barrier of some deliberate ‘doing nothing time.’
That and a pile of new resources to read, and ponder as I stare.
Further Reading
The Case for Doing Nothing, New York Times article on ‘niksen,’ the Dutch art of doing nothing, by Olga Mecking. “Stop being so busy, and just do nothing. Trust us.”
Waiting for the Weekend, Witold Rybczynski
How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, Jenny Odell.
“Odell sees our attention as the most precious—and overdrawn—resource we have. And we must actively and continuously choose how we use it.”
Tinker, Dabble, Doodle, Try: Unlock the Focus of the Unfocused Mind, Srini Pillay, M.D.
“… the lasting, positive benefits of adding deliberate and regular unfocus to your repertoire. A fascinating tour through brain wavelengths and rhythm, mindsets, and mental relaxation, Tinker Dabble Doodle Try demonstrates how specific kinds of planned unfocus stimulate cognitive calmness, jumpstart productivity, enhance innovation, inspire creativity, improve long-term memory, and, of course, help you stay on target.”
Also from Paperblogging
Take Some Time to Stand and Stare, including a recording of the tramp poet W.H. Davies’ poem, ‘Leisure.'
Looking at the Ground or The wonders of Roxbury Puddingstone. What’s your local rock?
Wonder and Someone to Share It
“One who sits and ponders does not seem to be getting anything done. Though perhaps they are getting some of the best things done: thinking, looking, enjoying, connecting.”
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