1 MAY 2020
Most of the world is under lockdown. We have all this free time now. It’s time to do all the things, amirite?
Companies, solopreneurs, heck, anyone with a WiFi connection, are offering courses, products, surveys, subscription services free for a COVID-19 pandemic, limited time.
You think: I must take advantage of all these delicious opportunities! After all, I may never get these opportunities ever again! I’d be silly not to, right?
The FOMO is high. The FOMO is intense.
But you feel lost, overwhelmed, exhausted. You’ve not even processed the fact that you now need to go out with a mask, that coffee chats are against the law and going for your usual run outside could get you arrested. You may even be grieving over a job loss, or God forbid, the loss of a loved one.
What can you do to juggle all of these demands?
How about this?
You can do nothing.
That’s right. You can absolutely do zilch, chill out and rest.
The art of doing nothing
At the start of Malaysia’s partial lockdown in mid-March, I was tempted to do all the things. The projects, the webinars, the zoom calls. But the weeks before the Movement Control Order were bad ones for me; turbulence in my personal life had flattened me and there was no fuel in the gas tank.
So, I put aside my laptop and ignored the Internet gurus – I did nothing.
I was experiencing a rare lull at work and decided to take full advantage.
My daily routine was, well, there wasn’t any.
Doing nothing meant not giving in to the urge to do more, more, more. I did what I fancied – things many would consider “a waste of time”.
Sometimes, I’d start the day in the quiet of the early morning, reading the Bible and journalling. I tuned out the panicked chatter of the news media and watched videos of cute animals, beautiful gardens and pastors preaching hope on Youtube.
Some days all I wanted to do was read a romance novel in bed. Other days, I wanted to binge on Netflix. Still, on some days, I took afternoon siestas with the sound of rain hitting my windows. Back when things were normal, I’d often wish I was back at home in bed when it rained in the afternoon during a working day. Now that I had the chance to do just that, I was revelling in it.
This slow routine lasted two weeks. Work came roaring back soon enough. But I found myself able to tackle the challenges of remote work better.
Still, old habits returned.
I woke with my smartphone in my hand, compulsively scrolling for news on the coronavirus. I binged on online courses, feeling as if I was chasing some invisible deadline. I stayed up late to answer work emails and messages. I redesigned my website while scanning the social media feeds of influencers enviously. I felt the burning itch to hustle.
Once more, the pressure built and the alarm bells rang.
Unlike so many times before, this time, I listened.
I took a deep breath and asked myself: What do I want to do now?
I want to make sense of the jumble of fearful, anxious demands in my head.
To do that, I needed space. I needed time.
It was time for me to do nothing again.
Disengage from the pressure
Being productive during one of the most stressful, disruptive times in human history may not be the smartest thing to do.
You’re already dealing with so much emotional turmoil and disruption. Taking on more pressure during this time could edge you towards burnout.
But for type-A, prone-to-burnout folks, taking a step back to do nothing when you could be productive feels almost blasphemous. We feel guilty that we are “wasting this pandemic”. Somehow, we feel the need to turn every second we have to produce something concrete, whether it be a loaf of artisan bread, a new skill or a sale.
But disengaging from pressure can produce something wonderful in us: We could gain the peace, clarity and strength to battle another tough day.
If you’re feeling guilty for not “optimising” your time during the pandemic, banish it now. You’re not obligated to accept every course, attend every webinar or finish that novel you had hidden in that hard drive.
Some days you’ll feel productive, some days you’ll feel so blah that making lunch seems like a monumental task.
The most important thing is to be aware of this natural ebb and flow, and to listen to what your body tells you.
Take care, stay safe and feel free to do nothing.
PS: It’s good to know that many agree with me:
Elizabeth Tai 