Why doing nothing might be your most productive move
The key is removing both the doing and the guilt about not doing. That second part? That’s where most of us stumble.
Hi,
Entrepreneurs live in a perpetual state of too much, whether that’s too many deadlines, too many ideas competing for attention, or too many tabs open both literally and mentally.
We convince ourselves that productivity means constant motion, that real founders push through, but what if the answer to our chronic overwhelm isn’t another productivity hack or a better time management system?
What if the black void of the nothing we’ve been running from our whole lives?
Brené Brown has said something in her new book Strong Ground that stuck with me. “There is growing evidence that the antidote to overwhelm appears to be nothingness or ‘non-doing’ time as [Jon] Kabat-Zinn describes it.”
She’s trained herself to couple the terms “overwhelm” and “do-nothing,” telling herself, “I’m overwhelmed, and I need 10–15 minutes of non-doing.”
I’ve been saying something similar to this for a while, but listening to Brown, one of the foremost experts in the world on the topic of productivity and organizational success, say it made it hit harder.
We’ve all been overwhelmed by the work we need to do, yet paralyzed from doing it. We respond by forcing ourselves to sit there longer, as if sheer stubbornness will crack the creative code.
It rarely does.
Jon Kabat-Zinn’s idea of non-doing isn’t about giving up, being passive, or checking out of your life. It’s about releasing the frantic urgency to force everything into place.
In mindfulness, non-doing is the disciplined practice of simply being with your experience instead of trying to fix it, optimize it, or turn it into something else. When you stop pushing, even for a moment, you create the space for clarity to emerge on its own terms. Kabat-Zinn argues that real change begins not in the striving, but in the pause before the striving when you allow life to unfold without wrestling it into submission.
If “doing nothing” sounds impossible, maybe “The Sacred Pause” or “The Pause” that Dr. Tara Brach talks about in Radical Acceptance would feel better for you. This pause is all about catching our emotions as they bubble up, accept them for what they are, and let them pass through you.
Our minds aren’t machines. They’re complex ecosystems that require rest, space, and “non-doing.” Not sleep. Not scrolling through social media. Not “taking a break” to answer emails. Actual, intentional nothingness.
Non-doing doesn’t mean laziness or avoidance. It’s not collapsing onto the couch for a Netflix binge (though no judgment if that’s what you need sometimes). Non-doing is the deliberate practice of stopping productive activity without replacing it with another task.
This might look like:
Sitting on your porch without your phone
Walking around the block without trying to “figure out” your stuck scene
Staring out the window without guilt
Lying on the floor and watching the ceiling fan
Standing in your backyard, doing absolutely nothing
The key is removing both the doing and the guilt about not doing. That second part? That’s where most of us stumble.
The guilt knowledge workers feel is a special kind of torture. Unlike many professions, our productivity isn’t measured in tasks completed but in something far more elusive.
We’re judged not just by words, but words that work, stories that resonate, and arguments that hold together. You can spend eight hours at your desk and do nothing usable. You can spend fifteen minutes in a flow state and produce your best work.
This unpredictability creates a special kind of overwhelm.
We can’t simply “power through” every problem the way we might power through a pile of invoices. The creative mind doesn’t respond well to force. What it does respond to is space.
Neuroscience backs this up. Our brains have two distinct modes: the task-positive network (focused, goal-oriented thinking) and the default mode network (wandering, associative thinking). We need both. The default mode network is where connections happen, where your unconscious mind sorts through the mess and finds patterns you couldn’t see while staring at your outline.
When you’re overwhelmed, you’re stuck in task-positive mode, spinning your wheels. The engine is revving, but you’re going nowhere. Non-doing gives your default mode network permission to do its job.
This is why your best ideas often come in the shower, on walks, or in that liminal space between sleep and waking. Your brain was working in a different way, making connections that focused thinking couldn’t reach.
Training yourself to do nothing
Brown’s “trained herself” to couple overwhelm with do-nothing time. This didn’t come naturally. It required intention, repetition, and a rewiring of conditioned responses.
For most of us, our default response to overwhelm is more effort. We double down. We stay up later. We cancel plans to sit at our desks longer, as if punishment will unlock productivity.
Breaking that pattern requires practice. Here’s how to begin:
Recognize the overwhelm signal. Before you can respond differently, you need to notice the feeling. Overwhelm often shows up as an inability to start, jumping between projects without making progress, or that specific exhaustion that comes from thinking about doing rather than doing. There’s also the physical manifestation, including tight shoulders, shallow breathing, that specific kind of mental static that makes everything feel urgent and nothing feel doable.
Create your phrase. Brown’s is simple: “I’m overwhelmed, and I need 10–15 minutes of non-doing.” Find language that works for you. Say it out loud. The verbal acknowledgment matters because it transforms a vague feeling into something you can act on.
Choose your practice. What does non-doing look like for you? Walking is excellent because it’s both mindless and purposeful enough to anchor you. Other options: sitting in your car, standing in your yard, perching on your front steps. The location matters less than the absence of productive intent. Whatever you choose, make it simple and immediately accessible. If your non-doing practice requires driving somewhere or setting up equipment or waiting for the right conditions, you won’t do it when you need it most.
Set a boundary. Somewhere beterrn ten to fifteen minutes is ideal. Not two hours (that’s avoidance). Not two minutes (that’s not enough). Give yourself actual space, but don’t let space become escape.
Return without analyzing. After your non-doing time, go back to your work. Don’t evaluate whether it “worked.” Don’t expect a revelation. Just notice if something feels different, even slightly.
This last point is crucial. Non-doing isn’t a productivity technique designed to generate immediate results. It’s maintenance. Some days you’ll return with clarity. Other days you’ll just return slightly less overwhelmed. Both outcomes are success.
Your first attempts at non-doing will feel uncomfortable, possibly excruciating. Every instinct will scream that you’re wasting time, that real entrepreneurs don’t need this, and that you should be pushing through like you always have before
That resistance is exactly why you need the practice.
We’ve been conditioned to believe that value comes from visible productivity.
Our worth gets tangled up with word counts and finished pages. Stepping away feels like admitting defeat, but real growth happens as much in the invisible spaces as in the visible.
Listen, you might think it’s “working”, but working for a bully sucks, and right now, that’s exactly what you are to yourself.
Consider how you’d treat a friend who came to you, exhausted and stuck in their head. Would you tell them to sit there longer, to force it, to prove their dedication through suffering? Or would you suggest they step away for a few minutes, take a walk, give themselves permission to breathe?
We extend more grace to others than we do to ourselves. Non-doing is practicing that same compassion inward.
Is that really how you want to lead the rest of your life? Even if you could, you can’t possibly believe you deserve to be talked to like that, even to yourself.
In The Perfectionist’s Guide to Losing Control, Katherine Morgan Schafler contends that perfectionism isn’t bad. It’s trying to control ourselves with punishment that’s the problem, and prescribes radical self-compassion.
Albert Ellis Ph.D. echoes that sentiment in How to Stubbornly Refuse to Make Yourself Miserable About Anything, calling for radical self-acceptance, unconditional other acceptance, and unconditional life acceptance. A situation or event can be good or bad, but that doesn’t make a person, place, or thing bad, including you.
Now, be honest, how has being mean to yourself really worked for you? How many hours have you lost to overwhelm paralysis? To false starts and deleted paragraphs and the mental fog that comes from running too hot for too long? Those stolen minutes of non-doing might actually buy you back hours of clear, focused attention.
Let’s do the math. If you spend three hours in a state of overwhelmed quasi-productivity, you’ve lost three hours. If instead you take fifteen minutes to genuinely step away, and that fifteen minutes gives you clarity for even ninety minutes, you’ve gained time. That said, even if all you gain is self-care, that’s good, too.
You don’t need to earn the right to step away. You don’t need to be “overwhelmed enough” to qualify. This isn’t a reward for suffering; it’s preventive maintenance.
Brown, one of the most productive researchers of our time, stops to walk parking lots when overwhelm hits. She’s not less serious about her work because of it. She’s more effective.
This isn’t easy and takes a lot of practice. So, start today. Not tomorrow when you’ve “got time,” not after this deadline passes. The next time you feel that familiar tightness, say it out loud: “I’m overwhelmed, and I need 10–15 minutes of non-doing.”
Then go outside. Walk. Stand. Sit. Be.
No phone. No solving. No planning. Just breathing and being overwhelmed without trying to fix it.
At first, this will feel indulgent or irresponsible or both. Your mind will argue. It will offer very convincing reasons why you can’t afford these fifteen minutes. It will try to negotiate, but you are not a hostage and this is not a negotiation.
Notice those thoughts, and do it anyway.
Over time, something will shift. You’ll start to recognize overwhelm earlier, before it becomes paralysis. You’ll reach for non-doing more readily, with less guilt. You’ll begin to trust that stepping away isn’t abandoning your work, but serving yourself.
Your business will be there when you return, and you’ll return with a mind that has room to work.
The blank page isn’t the enemy. The overwhelm that keeps you from meeting it clearly is the real obstacle. And the antidote might be simpler than you think.
Sometimes doing nothing is doing exactly what you need.
So, please stop being mean to my friend.
