How to do nothing (purposefully)

Relaxation.

It’s kind of a dirty word for a lot of us, right? As a recovering (or maybe just ruminating) perfectionist, I know that for me, it has always been hard to relax. I want to be writing and creating and producing–not lazing!

But we can’t always be working–even working on things we’re passionate about. And actually, the need to be constantly working is what leads to the most burnout and–ironically–procrastination. If you’re too busy trying to do everything at once, and determined to make it perfect the first time, it ends up becoming scary and stressful, rather than exciting, to start any new projects. Crippling perfectionism, I like to call it.

I think writers are, in some ways, more susceptible to this than many others–the art we create is incredibly vulnerable, and it’s easy to get into a habit of criticizing ourselves to make sure that others can’t do it first. But! Self-criticism is the bane of morale, so relaxation is necessary to the writing process.

Sometimes that means literally doing nothing, or bingeing a TV show, or eating some comfort food, or going on vacation and cutting yourself off from everything to do with work.

A lot of the time, though–and I would argue, more of the time–those things just aren’t really an option, or they’re not the healthiest way to relax. You don’t want the majority of your rest time to just be spent deflecting or ignoring your stress–you want your rest to be restful, and that means energizing, inspiring, and joy-giving. Rest should serve the purpose of filling you up.

If you have any trouble imagining what that looks like, here are a few tips that have helped me recharge and re-motivate:

Let the creativity of others feed your own.

This one is really simple, but easy to forget–all our ideas come from somewhere, and as creators we need to replenish our supply of inspiration continuously if anything we create can be meaningful and fresh to us. So if you’re a storyteller, you need to enjoy stories told by others. Let them point you to new ideas, new perspectives.

Spend time in nature.

Besides all the scientific health benefits of vitamin D and exercise, there’s a spirituality to the outdoors that humans connect to innately. You don’t have to be a mountain biker or a squirrel whisperer. Just the simple fact of being out in the air, among other living, growing things, is rejuvenating and uplifting.

God created the world; He takes pleasure in His creation, and we should too. And who knows what adventures you may have when you do!

Invest in meaningful relationships.

Sometimes, especially during times of stress, people seem like a lot of work–but with the right ones, we can leave a conversation or a meal or a trip to the mall feeling so much lighter than before. A good friend should build you up, point you to the truth, and give you hope, and we should endeavor to do those things for the ones we love in turn.

Don’t procrastinate your friends and family and spouse. Intentionally support and energize each other.

Lean in to the quiet.

For some this might take the more structured form of meditation, but for me it just means, go to a place you feel safe–and just breathe. Let your mind wander; don’t try to direct or control it. A lot of times, when I’m feeling burned out, my reflex is to avoid being inside my head by distracting myself with any kind of entertainment–which leads, ultimately, to deeper exhaustion. Taking a pause amid all that, just to let your brain be silent, can be healing.

Find a purposeful, creative, pressure-free hobby.

For me, it’s cooking.

I love food. Love it. And it’s so wonderfully encouraging–exciting, even–to create something delicious and different with the resources I have, to share with people I love.

And guess what? No one is telling me to do it, or what I should be doing differently, or that I’ll never make it as a restaurant chef–and even if they did, I’d be (mostly) immune to their criticism. Because cooking, for me, isn’t like writing; I don’t do it with the intent of reaching an audience. I just love food, and I cook because it gives me joy, and the fact that others can appreciate what I produce is simply a bonus.

So find something you can do, just for you.

Moral of the story: you have to feed your creative side, not just whip it into shape. Be like the sword of Godric Gryffindor and “imbibe that which strengthens you.”