To Do Nothing or Have Nothing to Do, That is the Question

Is “doing nothing” a good use of your time?

When I was ten, I used to dream of a life that went like this—unencumbered wealth, a beautiful family, and all the free time in the world to spend lying down in a king-sized bed made of the world’s finest plumage.

Yet, as I’ve gotten older—and with that, experienced tens of spring, summer, autumn, and winter breaks—I’ve realized an epiphany. Laying idle in bed all day—perusing the infinite annals of Instagram reels and eating chocolate-covered blueberries from Kirkland—does not lead to a fulfilling life. Instead, I would see my mental and physical state degrade substantially during these periods, with weight gained, the want to be productive lost, and the remnants of my attention span mauled.

Indeed, it was those moments generally would be perceived as difficult—long work days, grueling school hours, afternoons and evenings filled with swim practices, piano lessons, and mathematics courses—in which, in retrospect, felt the most fulfilling. 

Yes, firing on all cylinders repeatedly can be a difficult endeavor. Waking up at seven A.M. with the expectation to perform at school at a high level, then immediately going home to two hours of homework completion and piano practice—followed up by a grueling 90-minute swim practice, an hour of creative writing, and lights out—is no easy schedule for any high schooler. Yet, there always existed an intangible beauty in constantly having something to do. When any arbitrary period of time—be it a 24-hour-long span or months are end—is bounded by tasks that need to be accomplished or commitments that demand attention, life ebbs with unimpeded lubrication. When there is somewhere to be at eight A.M., at one P.M., at seven, at midnight, there is little room for personal stagnation.

On the other hand, the vast temporal expanse that a break offers can be the prime recipe for deterring personal progress. When there is nothing to do—no assignments scheduled, no practice to eagerly wait for or dread—it takes significant intrinsic motivation to fill the gaps up.

And we are human, with lulls in our judgment and lapses in our motivation. Sometimes, all we want to do is lie in bed all day and leave the television on. However, when schedules are jam-packed, there is no option to choose this life. When breaks are active with hour-long blocks to experiment with, on the other hand, comes the aforementioned lulls and lapses.

In life, truly having “nothing to do” can be viewed as a privilege. Having “nothing to do” inherently can mean no bills to pay, no practices to nervously anticipate, no Canvas assignments to be completed, no piano recital to prepare for and rehearse repeatedly. Yet, having “nothing to do” is not in the spirit of life. There are times when taking a pause and a breather can be extremely called for, but intentionally and continuously choosing “nothing” over “something” only incites stagnation. Indeed, we shouldn’t always do something. Yet, there should always be something to do.