In our relentlessly busy world, the idea of simply *doing nothing* feels almost radical. Vogue Philippines features editor Audrey Carpio recently experienced this firsthand, not through conscious choice, but through an unexpected injury – a broken foot. This forced period of inactivity, however, became a profound reflection on the value of rest and the societal pressures we face to constantly be productive.
Carpio’s experience resonates with the growing interest in the concept of ‘doing nothing,’ popularized by books like Jenny Odell’s “How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy” and Olga Mecking’s “Niksen: Embracing the Dutch Art of Doing Nothing.” Both works highlight the detrimental effects of constant connectivity and the pursuit of relentless productivity on our well-being. While their approaches differ, both authors advocate for reclaiming time from distractions and embracing the restorative power of idleness.
Confined to her couch for six to eight weeks, Carpio, a mother of four, found her usually frenetic life drastically altered. The constant motion—school runs, errands, work events—ceased. Dependence on others became a necessity, and the days unfolded in a rhythm of quiet contemplation. She describes it as a unique form of lockdown, not of the world, but of herself.
This enforced downtime allowed Carpio to observe the small details she usually overlooked. Odell, in her book, describes her own experience of “doing nothing” in a San Francisco rose garden. The act of bird-watching, she explains, requires complete stillness and attentiveness, a stark contrast to the constant mental stimulation of online activity. It’s about passively observing, allowing perceptions to sharpen, rather than actively seeking information.
Carpio recalls a similar experience during the pandemic lockdowns, where even simple tasks like procuring groceries became opportunities for quiet observation. The focus shifted from productivity to the details of the surroundings: the wilting leaves of her plants, the hunger cues of her sourdough starter, the subtle shifts of the afternoon sun. This echoes Odell’s description of how “doing nothing” can dramatically enhance sensory perception, moving from a “low-res” to a high-resolution experience of the world.
Mecking’s concept of ‘niksen’ further clarifies the distinction between idleness and passive entertainment. Niksen is not about reading, watching Netflix, or scrolling social media; it’s about a conscious choice to disengage entirely. It’s not about mindfulness or meditation, which require focused attention, but rather about letting go and simply being. While many cultures have their own traditions of idleness—dolce far niente (Italy), siestas (Spain), tambay (Philippines)—the modern emphasis on productivity often shames these practices.
Carpio acknowledges the guilt she feels at losing two months to injury, a sentiment common in our achievement-oriented culture. Yet, she questions whether this forced rest is, in fact, a valuable gift. Perhaps, she suggests, the universe has granted her the luxury of time—the greatest luxury—to simply heal and be. The experience, ultimately, offers a poignant reminder to prioritize rest and actively cultivate moments of intentional idleness within our busy lives, appreciating the restorative power of doing nothing.
