do nothing when you’re not doing something

Speed kills an average of thirty people each day. According to the National Safety Council, speeding is the major factor in traffic deaths and injuries. But driving the speed limit is also dangerous if you are the only one. 

Speeding on the road reduces your reaction time, increases your stopping distance, and compromises the effectiveness of road safety structures like guardrails. Speeding in life impairs judgment, increases unintended consequences, and reduces opportunities for support. On the road and in life, the faster we move the more vulnerable we become.

“Hurry Sickness,” yes it has a name, reduces the time for self-care practices, resulting in trouble sleeping, poor appetite, chronic fatigue, headaches, stomach issues, a compromised immune system, and hypertension. Hurrying makes us hostile, anxious, and depressed.

I have read up on the “Slow Movement” calling for everyone to do less, or even more annoying, to add another thing to your list like regular exercise. Doing less is not possible. Doing more is impossible. The other problem with slowing down is that nobody else is going to do it, so you would end up like that guy driving fifty-five miles an hour, resulting in the braking and lane changing wreaking havoc on the highway.  

What do we do? The research is in: speeding in your life is neither healthy nor productive. Lose – lose. Of course we already knew that by the way we feel on Monday morning, but now we have the science to back us. How might we change our pace setter in life from the fastest to the one with the most sustainable pace. The best way to run a race is with even splits. Front runners always fade in the final phase of the race. So we are all chasing the most dramatic loser.

I have been experimenting with something that has calmed the “hurry up” voice in my head. I do nothing when I am not doing something. Of course I am always doing something. The day starts with making breakfast way before the sun comes up, and ends with fixing the coffee for the morning  way after the sun has gone down. The list between those two tasks is ridiculous, and totally necessary. But I have discovered that I spend quite a bit of time waiting.

I looked up waiting and it turns out that we each spend about five years of our lives waiting. Two of those at traffic lights. Unfortunately, based on my very unscientific study of people, it looks like we are filling those five years of downtime with impulse-social-media-surfing. The moment someone stops moving, they reach for their phone. 

I am not an EMT,a fireman, or a police officer, so nobody really needs me right away. If my phone buzzes, it is not an emergency. Even if it was, there is nothing I could do. I am a writer. There is no such thing as a writing emergency. If you have an emergency, call 911, someone who can help will answer.

Here is what I have started doing when I am waiting: Nothing. I just wait, feel the boredom flow over me, and let myself drift into daydreaming. I do not check my phone to see if anyone has called, emailed, or texted, search for breaking news, or swipe through pictures and reels of the perfect life I am not leading. I just wait and smile, knowing I am on a break.

I am not claiming that doing nothing while waiting is going to change the pace of life. But each day you wait for the coffee, you wait for the light to change, you wait for the meeting to begin, you wait for the practice to end, and you wait in line for everything. Waiting is baked into each day, and there is nothing really constructive you can do during that time. 

Maybe if we reclaimed the boredom of waiting as our new form of collective meditation, then we might experience a slowing of our minds each day. It could be infectious. I know when someone reaches for their phone I feel compelled to display my importance by reaching for mine. 

What if we all just stood there staring off into space while we waited to do the next thing on our ever-growing list?

Peace,

Chris