I have a dog-eared book that I’ve read and reread many times and even carry around with me when I travel. It’s called Nothing to Do, Nowhere to Go: Waking Up to Who You Are. It is edited and partly written by Thich Nhat Hanh and is about a ninth-century Zen monk named Master Linji and his teachings. He was one of the founders of Zen Buddhism in China. It is the kind of book where I can go to any page at any time and find something to ponder, which is why I keep it with me on long flights.

The premise of Master Linji’s teachings to his students is summed up in a quote of his:

“As I see it, there isn’t so much to do. Just be ordinary—put on your robes, eat your food, and pass the time doing nothing.” These probably seem like very “unproductive” words in our modern lives. And yet, I assure you, if you have the courage to practice that advice, the payoff is beyond what even the most productive activity will get you. The payoff is recognizing that the world inside you, both physical and psycho-spiritual, is what’s important. And we pay less and less attention to it these days. In later life, when we actually DO have less to do, being comfortable with and learning from having nothing to do is a great blessing.

Doing Nothing Isn’t Easy

I have often found myself on my own and having nothing to do, either in private or in a public place, when I get the sudden urge to check my phone, appear busy in some other way, or just do something other than standing there unoccupied. I have found this to be resistance in myself to the simple experience of being, worried about how I appear to others, that I am somehow less important by not being busy. And it is my own self-judging that is the source of these worries. It is the same feeling I get when a conversation goes quiet. I sometimes feel the need to say something to keep things going, even if what I have to say isn’t important or is just hearsay and not genuinely my true thoughts.

The main street where I live in London is full of activity. Parents taking their children to and from school, people going to work and home, people shopping, all full of purposeful, active life, busy and productive. There are also some benches there with a few “rough sleepers” as they call homeless people in London. They sit and watch the world go by, all the busy people judging them or feeling sorry for them for having nothing to do. This scene speaks volumes about our attitudes towards simply being in today’s modern world.

“Nothing to Do” Is Not Doing Nothing

Even when we are unoccupied with the many tasks of life or work, our hearts are still beating, we are still breathing, our bodies are still buzzing with life, and the 90% of our brain activity that is subconscious is still actively working to figure things out and keep us alive. We are still taking in the world around us with our marvelous brain and sensory organs. These parts of us are driven by a universal power, not our conscious minds, and they take up most of the energy we expend every day. Aligning myself with this energy by simply taking a breath and being aware of it completely eliminates any discomfort I have around being bored or unoccupied. I now embrace this time as a precious opportunity to help me heal, restore, get fresh ideas and insights, or let my subconscious mind work at some underground concern. For me, the quiet contemplation this state of mind induces has become the very source of my creativity, writing, and becoming “unstuck.”

What’s more, even when I am busy with things that need doing, having the attitude of “nothing to do”—that is, doing them deliberately, carefully and well, paying attention to and concentrating on them as if nothing else mattered, for now—is a delightful way to get things done.

Being Bored

Boredom was part of growing up for me. I lived alone with my mother, who worked, and I had no siblings, so there wasn’t much social energy around the house. I sometimes criticized myself for being lonely and bored, as if there was something wrong with me or that I caused this loneliness and boredom to happen. I still am sometimes critical of myself when I’m bored. Yet at the same time there has always been a kind of comfort in being on my own, one that is at least partially linked to the state of quiet contemplation, which I have discovered I enjoy and relish. For me there is somehow an upside in boredom, its own self-curing solution, or at least consolation, in having more energy come from inside than outside. This has only become more of my way of life over the past 20 years since I started my health and parenting journey that I wrote about in my book.

Later Life

One of the scourges of the way we sometimes perceive later life is not only boredom but not having anything to look forward to. It makes me realize just how reliant I had been on novelty and anticipation in past years, both sensations of which, while pleasant, are “elsewheres” as British philosopher Mary Midgely described them, not “the splendid nowness of being actually here.” We don’t always have plans and events to constantly occupy our time. It doesn’t make anyone less important or matter less.Coming to terms with boredom and “nothing to do” in these years is an incredible opportunity—and a great blessing. Not only can it lessen fears about getting older it can bring you closer to your own true nature and the wonder of existence, both of which are the real elixirs of life.