Making Time for Nothing

“So,” I said to Michelle during our first session together, “if you were living your ideal life, what would you do today?” It’s a standard opening I use with almost every client, and Michelle gave me the standard response. 

“Nothing.” 

“Really?” I asked. “Nothing at all?” 

“That’s right,” Michelle said, nodding wearily but emphatically. 

“Fantastic!” I said. “Let’s get started!” Then I shut my mouth, settled back into my chair, and surreptitiously looked at my watch. Michelle lasted longer than most. We enjoyed nearly 15 whole seconds of stillness before she became unbearably nervous. 

“What is this?” she asked. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Nothing,” I said. “We’re here to get you what you really want, and you want to do nothing. So…” I shrugged and fell silent again. 

Five seconds. Then Michelle protested in a voice halfway between exasperation and fear, “Well, I didn’t mean right now.” 

This, too, was typical. My observation of people in general, not just my clients, is that we desperately want to take a break from our hectic, overscheduled lives—but not right now. Try it: Put down this magazine and do nothing at all for ten minutes. No planning, no worrying, no activity of any kind. Just ten minutes of empty time. 

Did you do it? 

I thought not. 

If I’m wrong, if you seized those few minutes and thoroughly enjoyed them, congratulations. If you’d rather undergo oral surgery, welcome to the vast majority of the human race. Empty time is a powerful medicine that can make us more joyful and resilient, but it’s strangely hard to swallow. In our culture, the very word empty has negative connotations: loss, need, desolation, hopelessness. Our ambivalence toward doing nothing creates what psychologists call an approach-avoidance response: We yearn for a powerful source of liberation that is right under our noses, and we’ll do almost anything to avoid it. 

Doing Everything, Accomplishing Nothing

The result of this unconscious psychological arm wrestling is that we fritter away our lives. We don’t do the things that would bring our dreams to fruition, but we don’t embrace emptiness, either. Instead, we play a hundred games of computer solitaire or stay on the phone with anyone—friends, family, wrong-number dialers—just to fill the time. 

Twenty-seven centuries ago, the philosopher Lao-tzu pointed out that while we join beams to make houses and mold clay into pots, the spaces inside are where we live and store our treasures. “We work with being,” Lao-tzu said, “but non-being is what we use.” The same is true of our daily schedules: They are most useful when they hold open stretches of time in which the joy of being can occur. When we don’t honor that perspective by spending time with emptiness, we tend to forget it altogether. Our lives become an exhausting sprint with no finish line, no real purpose, and no way to win.

Why We Don’t Empty Our Time

Generally speaking, a packed schedule is seen as the sign of a happenin’ life; empty time is for losers. We don’t say things like “That day won’t work for me, I’ve got a lot of empty time scheduled” or “Listen, Bob, I need to cancel. Some empty time just came up.” Part of the reason is our culture: According to the Western perspective, filling every moment with “value-added” activities is a sign of virtue and significance. 

There’s an even deeper reason we may avoid empty time: For us, it isn’t really empty. It’s full of demons—grief, rage, anxiety, guilt, regret. In fact, when someone like Michelle tells me she feels empty inside, I suspect her insides are actually overstuffed with unprocessed psychological pain. Those of us who feel most victimized by busy schedules are probably keeping our time full to distract ourselves from the demons. We have more immediate, pressing concerns, such as folding our towels in perfect thirds or reading every word in every day’s newspaper. That’s what any responsible person would do, right? 

Not in my book. Personal experience tells me that never emptying our time is like never emptying our garbage cans, our bladders, or our digestive tracts. Do those images disgust you? Good. I want them to. The archetype of the virtuously overbusy person is so ingrained in our societal mind-set that it takes strong language to knock it loose. 

Signs Of Empty-Time Deficiency Syndrome

Vile though the image is, I truly believe that constipation is the most accurate metaphor for perpetual overscheduling. When part of me starts lamenting about how stressed I am by my overflowing agenda, another part of me knows that I’m full of…

So anyway, the more we fill our time with tasks that aren’t real requirements of our best lives, the more blocked and uncomfortable we feel. If you have three or more of the following symptoms, you probably need to, um, flush: 

  1. Irritability, feeling “frayed”
  2. Boredom (oddly enough)
  3. Feeling disconnected even when in the company of others
  4. Being unable to unwind at night or on vacation
  5. A sense of not being, having, or doing enough

Clients who have these symptoms always tell me they “need to do something about it.” The truth is, they need to do nothing about it. To heal, they need to empty some time, then feel whatever arises. As these feelings are consciously experienced (a process that allows them to teach us necessary lessons), they go away. 

One caveat: Some emotions can’t be off-loaded without being told to at least one compassionate witness. Counseling of any sort is really just hiring someone to hold a stretch of empty time for a client, during which she can experience the pain she’s carrying and feel understood. If you can’t handle empty time, find someone—a friend, relative, professional—who can hear about your pain. Then feel it, express it, and watch it disappear. It will. No matter how frightening your demons may seem, their goal is never to hurt you. They only, always, want to leave. 

How To Get Empty Time

Key words: prioritizing, protecting, and promise keeping. 

Prioritizing 

Try this exercise: First contemplate the to-do list you’re carrying in your head or your planner this very day. Now imagine that you’re reading the list many years from now, moments before your own (peaceful) death. Which of the items on the list will you be glad you did? Which will mean nothing? 

If you’re not sure, recall a few incidents in your life when you felt loved and loving: the glance that told you a friendship was becoming something deeper or a time of great grief or joy when you sensed something infinitely powerful and benevolent at work in the universe. Compare those memories with your to-do list. If nothing on today’s schedule offers the soulful nourishment you recall, write in some empty time. Add just a few minutes of nothing to your daily schedule, and empty time will begin to work its magic. It will reconnect you with your core self, the source of pure joy you felt in your sweetest memories. 

You’ll have to take my word for this until you begin to feel it, but soon the restorative power of empty time will become self-evident. You’ll make it a high priority for the same reason you make breathing a high priority: It keeps you alive. The little dribs and drabs of sustenance you get during your “frittering” activities are nothing compared to the crisp, clean oxygen of really empty time. I give my daily minutes of empty time an even higher priority than sleep, because I know I need them more. I can feel this. You will, too.

Protecting 

In our obsessively busy society, you may be hard-pressed to convince family and acquaintances you need empty time. My advice is, don’t bother. Don’t explain to the refrigerator repairman that he can’t come at ten because you’ll be doing absolutely nothing. Just excuse yourself, firmly, unapologetically, with minimum information. Say, “I’m sorry, I have an appointment at that time” or “Nope, I’m booked” or “I need 15 minutes alone.” Even when my kids were toddlers, even with needy clients, even when I’m pushing a deadline, I’ve gotten excellent results with these simple, straightforward statements. Memorize them (or write your own versions), and practice saying them out loud. They’ll roll off your tongue more easily in real-life situations. 

Promise Keeping 

Once you’ve given empty time its rightful priority and practiced protecting your boundaries, make a daily, ten-minute appointment with empty time. Write it down. Give your core self this brief period of attention, and it will connect you with your real thoughts and feelings, your passion and purpose, the life you are supposed to live—but only if you keep your promise! Finding yourself doesn’t require that you fly to Tibet, join a convent, or build a meditation room. Just consistently keep a minimal commitment to empty time. 

Of course, if you want the help and have the money, you may want to hire an adviser: a yoga teacher, a headshrinker, or a coach (comme moi). Michelle did. Despite our prickly first session, she kept returning, slowly learning to tolerate empty time in my office and at home. One day in the middle of a session, she fell silent. I checked my watch. Ten seconds…20…30. Finally, I gave her a nudge. 

“We still have a few minutes,” I said. “Is there anything you want to do? Anything you want to talk about?” 

Michelle sat quietly for a beat, then gave me a peaceful smile and an answer that let me know our work was finished. 

“I suppose,” she said. “But not now.” 


Got a Minute?

When we’re not prepared to use empty time, finding ourselves in the midst of it — waiting at the dentist’s office, snowed in my a blizzard, stranded by a canceled flight — is frustrating and boring. Preparing to use these experiences wisely can make them delightful, like finding a room littered with paper, then realizing the scraps are thousand-dollar bills. Here are some ideas that can turn enexpected free time into treasure rather than trash.

If you have one minute…

Go limp. Settle into the most comfortable position possible. Inhale deeply, hopd your breath a second or two, then relax your body — especially the muscles in your face — as you exhale. Become aware of any physical sensation you’re feeling. Your body will repay the gift of oxygen and relaxation by becoming calmer and more energetic.

If you have five minutes…

Forget everything. Jot down a quick to-do list, and let it be your “task memory” so you can let your mind roam free, like a toddler exploring a room. Patiently and non-judgementally, watch where you mind goes, what it says. Then go back to your to-do list. You’ll find that you feel as if you’ve had a brief but refreshing vacation.

If you have an hour…

Find a reason to laugh. Read a funny book; call your silliest friend. If you’re too stressed or sad to laugh, let yourself cry. Both behaviors release physical and emotional tension, connecting your mind, body, and circumstances. Laughter, in particular, has been shown to improve immune function, strengthen relationships, and brighten your mood in almost any situation.

If you have a free afternoon…

Disappear. Don’t call on the people you “should” visit. Don’t do the cleaning project that would make you the perfect homemaker. There will be time later for doing; this afternoon is for being. Roam your favorite places: shops, libraries, parks, country roads. Drink in all the beauty you find. Tell no one.

If you have a whole day…

Live it on purpose. Start by reminding yourself what you want your life to mean. Take one small step in the service of your purpose. Then give yourself a gift (a wind chime, a lipstick, a dance to your favorite song). This will remind you that receiving and giving are inseparable and put you in the zone where you simultaneously forget your ego and remember who you really are.

Who’s the Boss: Lessons in Leadership

Few things incite a frothing, wild-eyed rage like asking people to talk about bad bosses. People aren’t just annoyed by poor leadership—they sputter and snarl as they describe their superiors, lusting for the chance to hit that bad boss with a perfect, withering insult. Or perhaps a truck.

It’s a little scary, then, to realize that we’re all likely to occupy a leadership role, from motherhood to mogulhood, at some point in our lives. When we blow it, our imperfections will be magnified by our authority. Leadership is simply too complex to do perfectly. I believe that the key to being a better boss lies in accepting that fact. Ineffective leaders expect their role to be easy and think—no matter what—that they’re doing the job just right. Although good leaders often begin with similar expectations, convinced they’re natural-born chieftains, they soon run smack-dab into a little thing called Monday morning. The best leaders let go of the fantasy and become fully present and responsive to the complexities of each new situation. They’re the ones—the few, the proud, the downright worshipped—who earn their followers’ respect. To become one of them, you need to turn bad-boss behaviors on their head to find your way toward good-boss techniques.

The View from Below

Bad-boss self-concept: As a leader, I’ll be a higher-up.
Good-boss self-concept: As a leader, I’ll have to go lower down.

The bad-boss tales I’ve heard include many stories of managers demanding the undoable, responding to objections by simply reiterating that it had to be done. This creates nothing but hostility. “If you want to govern the people, you must place yourself below them,” said the philosopher Lao-tzu (who is my favorite management consultant, despite having been dead for centuries). That doesn’t mean you become a slave to your followers’ whims. Great bosses acknowledge their own ignorance and ask questions of everyone to gain a better grasp of two important things: What’s going on? What needs to be done?

Eliminating Moving Targets

Bad-boss target setting: Now that I’m the boss, I give orders to others.
Good-boss target setting: Now that I’m the boss, I bring order to what others do.

Many people thrill to giving orders or critiques, but have unclear, uninformed or ambivalent ideas about what they’re actually trying to accomplish—that is, they know what they want this second, but the big picture is as fuzzy as a winter mink. Leading well means forming a crystal clear image of what must happen and communicating that precisely. After giving an assignment, ask that person to describe the task in their own words. If they can’t, or if the account they give doesn’t match what you were trying to convey, you need to try a new tack. The first step could be as easy as clarifying your directives—or you might have to rethink your org chart and who reports to whom.

Where We Go Wrong

Bad-boss position on feedback: Now everyone must tell me when I’m right.
Good-boss position on feedback: Now everyone must tell me when I’m wrong.

Most humans go through the world trying to elicit validation. Al Preble, a leadership consultant for Cambridge Leadership Group in Cambridge, Massachusetts, says this isn’t the way to go. The most powerful way for leaders to communicate, he believes, is to use just three simple steps. When a problem arises:

  1. Clearly tell your subordinate what you really think
  2. Describe the facts that led you to this opinion
  3. Ask to be disconfirmed; in other words, honestly request that people tell you where you’re wrong.

Taking the Hit

Bad-boss protection strategy: As a boss, I’ll be protected from taking blame.
Good-boss protection strategy: As a boss, I’ll protect others by taking blame.

The successful bosses I interviewed emphasized that a good leader helps her followers feel safe from the dangers that come from both inside and outside the organization. An incompetent supervisor, on the other hand, feels that the best way to secure her position is to appear faultless, and works mightily to make clear who fouled up or even to lay blame on a scapegoat. But that behavior turns people into twitchy, record-keeping, blame-tallying masses of ectoplasm.

Once More into the Breach

Bad-boss problem solving: Being the boss means I can avoid problems.
Good-boss problem solving: Being the boss means I must seek out problems.

You can tell if you’re making mistakes as a leader, because things go wrong—not just one catastrophic computer snafu but repeated errors. Bad bosses turn away from these realities. They don’t discuss problems; they just hunker down and hope the issue will go away. It won’t. Untreated, a minor concern becomes a major issue becomes a catastrophe.

This is the core of good leadership, whether you’re managing a corporation, your immediate family, or just your own life. Lao-tzu puts it this way: “When [the Master] runs into a difficulty, she stops and gives herself to it. She doesn’t cling to her own comfort; thus problems are no problem for her.” Embracing the fact that you’ll encounter many obstacles—and that this is all right—allows you to understand, listen, give clear instructions, invite negative feedback and protect those you lead. You’ll be comfortable with leadership, even when it’s uncomfortable. And that will make you an easy act to follow.

A Resting Revolution: Insight from Martha

Resting CatSo, as you know, if you’ve been following my writing and coaching, I’m heavily into helping people reclaim their “true nature.” It is what I’ve always done, but with a new sense of purpose and urgency as change begins to make our habitual ways of behaving obsolete and counterproductive. I frequently review a list of “brain rules” created by Dr. John Medina, a developmental molecular biologist who specializes in understanding the brain. Medina’s first brain rule is that we learn best outside. Another is that since every brain is wired differently, we should follow our own impulses rather than adhering to rigid external rules. But I think my favorite brain rule is rule number seven. Four words: “Sleep well, think well.”
 
It seems reasonable to suppose that as humans evolved, tribes or bands of people were safe if not everyone slept at the same time. “Night owls” like me could tend the fires and watch for predators at night. By the time we hit the hay, the tribe’s “morning people” would be alert and standing guard. That’s the only explanation I have for the fact that I—and all my blood relations including my children—simply cannot fall asleep early or bounce out of bed at sunrise feeling like a million bucks. By contrast, my partner Karen apologizes each night at 8:30 when she becomes completely unable to function. “I just need to close my eyes for a minute,” she’ll say, and then drop into a sleep so profound we have literally thrown parties without waking her up. Early morning, Karen turns into the US Army. She moves so fast and gets so much done that my groggy eyes cannot follow the motions. 
 
In the world that is becoming, as our society undergoes rapid change, we must return to our true nature in terms of how we rest and relax as well as in terms of how we work and play. Our “normal” terms of sleeping and waking were created so that factory workers could all show up at the assembly line at the same moment. School started in the pre-dawn hours for adolescents so they could be home to help with chores on the farm during most of the day. (Schools also give summer vacations because the summer months required children to stay on the farm to help during the most active part of the crop cycle.) There is no reason to continue scheduling our activities based on a model from the 19th century. We don’t work effectively when we are on a schedule that isn’t natural for our own individual bodies. Studies have shown that adolescents desperately need to sleep late in the morning and that forcing them to show up in class at pre-dawn hours can cause everything from emotional volatility to traffic accidents. 
 
So forget the Industrial Revolution. Let’s foment the Resting Revolution. If you want a nap right now, the most intelligent thing you can do is take it. If you want to perform well, sleep until your body wakes up on its own. If you have small children and you are severely sleep deprived, know that finding a way—any way—to get sleep is the only way to give children a healthy, cheerful, available parent.
 
I know this is asking a lot. But any way you slice it, today’s world is going to ask for everything you can give. Make your first priority your own well-being if only to serve the greater good. I would say more about this, but I really need a nap.

Video: Coach 4 2 Day: Overcoming Peanut Butter

Martha offers some simple tips on how to snap back into mindfulness when it comes to mindlessly eating – in this case- peanut butter.

[Can’t see the video above? Watch it online!]

How to Know It’s Real Love

In a folktale that has been retold for centuries in many variations (one of which is Shakespeare’sKing Lear), an elderly king asks his three daughters how much they love him. The two older sisters deliver flowery speeches of filial adoration, but the youngest says only “I love you as meat loves salt.” The king, insulted by this homely simile, banishes the youngest daughter and divides his kingdom between the older two, who promptly kick him out on his royal heinie. He seeks refuge in the very house where his third daughter is working as a scullery maid. Recognizing her father, the daughter asks the cook to prepare his meal without salt. The king eats a few tasteless mouthfuls, then bursts into tears. “All along,” he cries, “it was my youngest daughter who really loved me!” The daughter reveals herself and all ends happily (except in King Lear, where pretty much everybody dies).

This story survived throughout Europe for a very long time because it is highly instructive: It reminds listeners that in matters of love, choosing style over substance is disastrous. It also helps us know when we’re making that mistake. Salt is unique in that its taste doesn’t cover up the food it seasons but enhances whatever flavor was there to begin with. Real love, real commitment, does the same thing. 

Each of the following five statements is the polar opposite of what most Americans see as loving commitment. But these are “meat loves salt” commitments, as necessary as they are unconventional. Only if you and your beloved can honestly say them to each other is your relationship likely to thrive.

1. I can live without you, no problem.
“I can’t live,” wails the singer, “if living is without you.” It sounds so tragically deep to say that losing your lover’s affections would make life unlivable—but have you ever been in a relationship with someone whose survival truly seemed to depend on your love? Someone who sat around waiting for you to make life bearable, who threatened to commit suicide if you ever broke up? Or have you found yourself on the grasping side of the equation, needing your partner the way you need oxygen? The emotion that fuels this kind of relationship isn’t love; it’s desperation. It can feel romantic at first, but over time it invariably fails to meet either partner’s needs.

The statement “I can’t survive without you” reflects not adult attraction but infancy, a phase when we really would have died if our caretakers hadn’t stayed close by, continuously anticipating our needs. The hunger for total nurturing usually means we’re in the middle of a psychological regression, feeling like abandoned infants who need parenting now, now, now! If this is how you feel, don’t start dating. Start therapy. Counseling can teach you how to get your needs met by the only person responsible for them: you. The “I can’t live without you” syndrome ends when we learn to care for ourselves as tenderly and attentively as a good mother. At that point, we’re ready to form stable, lasting attachments that can last a lifetime. “I can live without you” is an assurance that sets the stage for real love. 

2. My love for you will definitely change.
Most human beings seem innately averse to change. Once we’ve established some measure of comfort or stability, we want to nail it in place so that there’s no possibility of loss. It’s understandable, then, that the promise “My love for you will never change” is a hot seller. Unfortunately, this is another promise that is more likely to scuttle a relationship than shore it up.

The reason is that everything—and everyone—is constantly changing. We age, grow, learn, get sick, get well, gain weight, lose weight, find new interests, and drop old ones. And when two individuals are constantly in flux, their relationship must be fluid to survive. Many people fear that if their love is free to change, it will vanish. The opposite is true. A love that is allowed to adapt to new circumstances is virtually indestructible. Infatuation relaxes into calm companionship, then flares again as we see new things to love about each other. In times of trouble and illness, obligation may feel stronger than attraction—until one day we realize that hanging in there through troubled times has bonded us more deeply than ever before. Like running water, changing love finds its way past obstacles. Freezing it in place makes it fragile, rigid, and all too likely to shatter.

3. You’re not everything I need.
I’m a big fan of sexual monogamy, but I’m puzzled by lovers who claim that their romantic partner is the only person they need in their lives or that time together is the only activity necessary for emotional fulfillment. Humans are designed to live in groups, explore ideas, and constantly learn new skills. Trying to get all this input from one person is like trying to get a full range of vitamins by eating only ice cream. When a couple believes “We must fulfill all of each other’s needs,” each becomes exhausted by the effort to be all things to the other and neither can develop fully as an individual.

It amazes me how often my clients’ significant others feel threatened when the clients revive childhood passions or take up new hobbies. I encourage people to bring their spooked spouses to a session so we can discuss their fears. The hurt partners usually come in sounding something like this: “How come you have to spend three hours a week playing tennis (or gardening or painting)? Are you saying I’m not enough to keep you happy?” The healthiest response to such questions is “That’s right, our relationship isn’t enough to make me completely happy—and if I pretended it were, I’d stunt my soul and poison my love for you. Ever thought about what you’d like to do on your own?” Sacrificing all our individual needs doesn’t strengthen a relationship. Mutually supporting each other’s personal growth does.

4. I won’t always hold you close.
There’s a thin line between a romantic statement like “I love you so much, I want to share my life with you until death do us part” and the lunatic-fringe anthem “I love you so much that if you try to leave me, I’ll kill you.” People who say such things love others the way spiders love flies; they love to capture them, wrap them in immobilizing fetters, and drain nourishment out of them at peckish moments. This is not the kind of love you want.

The way you can tell real love from spider love is simple: Possessiveness and exploitation involve controlling the loved one, whereas true love is based on setting the beloved free to make his or her own choices. How you use the word make is also a tip-off. When you hear yourself saying “He makes me feel X” or “He made me do Y,” you’re playing the victimized, trussed-up fly. Even more telling are sentences like “I’ve got to make him see that he’s wrong” or “I’ll hide what I really think because it would make him angry.” You are not the victim but the crafty spider, withholding and using manipulation to control your mate’s feelings and actions. Either strategy means that someone is being held too close, wrapped in spider silk.

Getting out of this sticky situation is simple: Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Begin by taking responsibility for your own choices—including the choice to obey the spider man who may have you in his thrall. Then communicate your real feelings, needs, and desires to your partner, without trying to force the reaction you want. If your relationship can’t thrive in the clear light of honesty, it is better to get out of it than to sink further into manipulation and control.

5. You and I aren’t one.
Perhaps you are neither a spider nor a fly but a chameleon who morphs to match the one you love. Or you may date chameleons, choosing partners who conform to your personality. Either way, you’re not in a healthy relationship. In fact, you’re not in a relationship at all.

I used to tune in so acutely to my loved ones’ wants and needs that I literally didn’t know my own. This denial of self ultimately turned into resentment, poisoning several close relationships. Then—once burned, twice shy—I went briefly to the opposite extreme. I found myself having a lot of lackluster lunches with folks who hung on my every word and agreed with everything I said. Narcissistic I may be, but Narcissus I’m not; hanging out with a human looking-glass, no matter how flattering, left me lonely.

If you’re living by the “We are one” ideal, it’s high time you found out how terrific love for two can be. Follow your heart in a direction your partner wouldn’t go. Dare to explore your differences. Agree to disagree. If you’re accustomed to disappearing, this will allow you to see that you can be loved as you really are. If you tend to dominate, you’ll find out how interesting it is to love an actual person rather than a human mirror.

~~~~~~~

Buddha once said that just as we can know the ocean because it always tastes of salt, we can recognize enlightenment because it always tastes of freedom. There’s no essential difference between real love and enlightenment. While many people see commitment as a trap, its healthy versions actually free both lovers, bring out the flavor of their true selves, and build a love that is satisfying, lasting, and altogether delicious.