There’s this paradox I keep bumping into – the world glorifies hustle, productivity, and getting things done, but the moment I try to not do anything (just sit in stillness), I feel like I’m losing a battle I didn’t even sign up for.

You’d think doing nothing would be easy, right? After all, it literally requires no effort. But no, definitely not, doing nothing has turned out to be the hardest thing I’ve ever tried.

And the interesting part is, it’s not because my body refuses to be still. It’s my mind. That little thought machine just won’t shut up.

Why Doing Nothing Feels Like Failure

When I sit quietly, I feel this nagging sense of guilt, like I should be reading, writing, checking emails, or at least reorganising my almirah drawer that’s been a black hole since 2019.

I think a lot of us wrestle with this because we’ve equated worth with output. If we’re not producing something—be it words, spreadsheets, or Instagram reels- we feel like we’re falling behind.

We live in a culture that equates busyness with value. If you’re not doing something measurable, you’re “wasting time.” But the twist is that time spent in stillness is never wasted.

There’s a Zen saying I love: “Sitting quietly, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.” In other words, life has a rhythm of its own. We don’t need to force everything to happen; we just have to let it unfold.

And yet, it still feels like failure when we’re not contributing, producing, or progressing. That’s the mental knot most of us get stuck in.

Writers Are the Worst at This

As a writer, I’m guilty of treating every quiet moment as a potential idea factory. I’ll sit down with my snacks, thinking I’ll take a break, but ten minutes in, I’m scribbling half-formed thoughts about literally anything that I think I should be writing about.

The irony? Some of my best ideas do come when I’m not actively chasing them. That one time I was stuck on a thought for weeks? The breakthrough came while I was aimlessly watching clouds drift by. Go figure.

Remember when the pandemic hit, the whole world was forced into a kind of collective pause. Suddenly, the endless busyness stopped; there was no rushing to work, no weekend plans, no constant running around. Like everyone else, I found myself… doing nothing.

At first, it felt strange, even uncomfortable. I tried baking bread, organising closets, and pretending to enjoy home workouts. But when all of that quieted down, I was just left with myself. And in that stillness, when I wasn’t forcing productivity, an idea slipped in.

That’s when the thought of starting this blog first appeared.

Had life not slowed me down, I’m not sure I would have listened to it. But doing nothing created the space for that idea to surface. And here we are.

Recommended Read: How My Ideas Vanish the Moment I Pick Up a Pen

Virginia Woolf once said, “Arrange whatever pieces come your way.” But to even notice those pieces, sometimes we need stillness. Doing nothing creates the space for ideas to drift in.

Doing nothing is doing something

The FOMO of Stillness

Here’s a real-life story: A few months ago, I challenged myself to spend one Sunday evening doing absolutely nothing. No phone, no laptop, no books – it’s just me, sitting and observing.

Within fifteen minutes, I had:

  • Thought about three emails I “really should” reply to.
  • Replayed a random awkward conversation from 2012.
  • Decided I might need to rearrange my bookshelf.

By the end of the hour, I wasn’t refreshed; I was exhausted from wrestling with my own thoughts. That was the moment I realised: doing nothing isn’t just sitting around. It’s a skill.

The Stoics knew this long ago. Seneca wrote, “It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.”

Doing Nothing Is Doing Something

A wise friend once told me, “Rest is productive.” I didn’t think about it that time, but they weren’t wrong. Neuroscience even backs this up. Studies show that when we let our minds wander, the “default mode network” lights up – the very part of the brain linked to creativity, self-reflection, and problem-solving.

So technically, when you’re staring out the window, you’re not wasting time, you’re giving your brain a chance to connect dots it can’t while it’s juggling to-do lists.

It’s like the saying: “Don’t just do something, sit there.”

Why It’s Hard but Worth It

The hardest part about doing nothing is the feeling that we’re stepping out of the race. The world is sprinting, and here we are—just…sitting. But maybe that’s exactly the point.

Doing nothing gives us:

  • Clarity: Silence makes space for the thoughts that really matter.
  • Perspective: It reminds us that life isn’t just about output.
  • Creativity: Empty space becomes fertile ground for new ideas.
  • Courage: It takes guts to say, “I’m enough, even when I’m not producing.”

As Lao Tzu put it: “Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing.”

I’m still not great at doing nothing. My brain keeps insisting I should be useful. But I’m learning to see “nothing” not as a void, but as a pause – a reset button.

The way I see it now: when I sit quietly, sipping tea, letting the world spin without me for a bit, I’m not failing. I’m recharging. I’m making room for the next chapter, the next sentence, the next story.

So if doing nothing feels impossible for you, too, you’re not alone. But maybe, doing nothing is exactly the something we all need more of.

One day, I hope to be really good at doing nothing. Who knows, maybe I’ll even win a gold medal in it-though knowing me, I’d probably ruin it by writing about the experience.


Did you know? Alongside, we also run a book series — Unfold the Stories of Unsung Heroes. Because not all heroes wear capes. 🦸‍♂️🦸‍♀️

Wanna Grab Your Copy Today? Get It Here!

Spread the love