The pause that saves us

The pause that saves us

Creshonda Smith moved to Italy from America a while back, first to Rome and then to a remote town in the far south. She got a huge culture shock. Not about language, food, or fashion; but about attitudes towards rest.

In her words:
“For most of my life, being busy felt like my default setting. I genuinely believed that if I wasn’t actively working toward something, I was falling behind.”
Now, she lived in a place “where people unapologetically paused their days—not just for vacation, but for lunch, coffee, or no reason at all.”

It took her many years to discover that this wasn’t laziness; it was self-care.

The Italians call it IL DOLCE FAR NIENTE. I’ve put in caps to signal what an important phrase it is. It translates to the sweetness of doing nothing.

Antonia Fest explains it beautifully here:

“When strolling through small towns, you will often see locals pulling a chair out of their front door and taking a seat to watch their world go by. Some are joined by friends or family, some bring potatoes to peel, some shoes to polish, or some clothes to sew. This is, however, their opportunity to absentmindedly exist without the need to do anything because Italians understand their time is their own and they are deserving of control over it.”

You might be wondering what this has to do with you, trapped in your busy-busy city life.

Well—everything.

Because your default setting might also be stuck on go. Because somewhere along the way, we started equating motion with meaning, and filled every gap with noise. Because if your only mode is productive, then you’re not truly present—just perpetually rushing toward the next checkbox.

But what if your best ideas need silence to grow?
What if your deepest healing requires stillness, not hustle?
What if the truest moments of connection only happen when we pause long enough to let them in?

Il dolce far niente is not a luxury, or available only to the indolent. It’s a necessity. For you, for me, for all of us. The sweetness of doing nothing is a rebellion against a world that always demands more. It’s a reminder that your life is not a race.

Try it.
Take short breaks during your day to simply sit and observe your surroundings without any agenda.
Allow yourself periods without scheduled activities, letting spontaneity guide you.
Stare out of the window and let your thoughts wander.
Protect some unproductive hours in your monthly calendar as though they are board meetings.
Have a long lunch alone with someone who matters to you, with no agenda.
Or just do whatever the hell you feel like for a bit. Indulge yourself.

Why? Because your most productive ideas and your most creative breakthroughs are likely to come precisely when you are not thinking actively about them. These aren’t gaps in productivity. They’re glue for your soul. And the possible precursor to your best work.

Of course, not everyone can pull out a chair and just watch the world go by. In many workplaces, that kind of stillness gets you a side-eye—or a reputation for slacking off. In many homes, the idea of doing nothing feels like placing your weight on someone else’s back.

So let’s be clear. This isn’t about escaping your responsibilities. It’s about clawing back some small moments from the maelstrom of your life. You don’t need a villa in Tuscany to do this. You need a few reclaimed pockets of breath. You will still do the work of your life, all of it. But you will do it better without mortgaging it to urgency.

Time is yours before it’s anyone else’s. Don’t let everyone else steal every minute of your life with noise and demands. Even in the busiest life, you can protect small spaces—moments that are yours alone. That’s not selfish—it’s how you stay whole, and how you come back to offer your best.

 

THE SIGNAL IN THE NOISE
The world won’t pause for you—but you can pause for yourself. Sometimes, doing nothing is the most powerful something you can do.

 

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