I Spent 60 Minutes Doing Nothing, And Here’s Why You Should Too

If you're feeling overwhelmed, do this.

Hi, everyone

This is a little bonus article for you because I stumbled upon an experience that I felt I just had to share. If you’re currently dealing with a lot of heavy emotions or feeling completely overwhelmed, this one is especially for you.

Lately, I’ve realized something about myself: I use “busy work” as a form of protection. When I’m cleaning, planning, or working, I don’t have to feel what's bubbling under the surface. But those hidden emotions don’t go away just because we’re productive; they wait for us to stop.

So, I decided to stop. I set a timer and spent 60 minutes doing absolutely nothing. No phone, no book, no chores. Just me.

Here’s how it went:

Stage 1: The resistance

The first 15 to 20 minutes were honestly just loud. My brain was like a radio stuck between stations. I found myself “stimming”, singing all the “brain rot” TikTok sounds I’d heard during my morning doom-scrolling. Then suddenly, I started reviewing my client meetings.

After a while, the first real wave of emotion hit: Anxiety. My mind started screaming: “Why am I doing this? This is a total waste of time. Maybe 60 minutes is too long... I should have just done 15.” I’d like to name this: the resistance stage. I realize it’s the part of me that is terrified of being alone with myself because I know some emotions will arise, and I won’t be able to control it.

Stage 2: The confrontation

Once the initial panic had settled, the emotions got a bit more heavier (real). I felt a wave of anger and frustration. My inner critic took the wheel and started listing everything I was “failing” at: “The house is messy. Why hasn’t the laundry been done? Why aren’t you spending enough time with your husband?”

I realized these emotions had made my body feel more tense than when I started. I started to stretch and yawn, over and over, even though I wasn’t sleepy. In retrospect, I think it was my body letting go of the “productivity pressure.”

What came after that was sadness. I tried to pinpoint it, where it came from. But nothing came up. I wasn’t sad about anything in particular. So, I let it be. I let it sit with me. I just welcomed it like a guest.

Stage 3: The “finish line”

After that sadness passed through me, I felt light. I started having these funny, sweet memories from my life. I looked around my bedroom and noticed things out of place, but instead of feeling bothered or stressed, I found them funny. I felt a genuine appreciation for my surroundings and somehow, life in general.

Around the 40-minute mark, my cat wandered in. He wanted pets, and I felt this massive rush of endorphins. Because I had been “bored” for so long, the simple act of petting my cat felt like the best thing in the world.

The last few minutes felt the longest. That “inner critic” tried to come back for a second visit, but because I’d already acknowledged her once, she didn’t stay long. When the timer finally went off, I felt a jolt of euphoria. It felt like I’d just crossed the finish line of a marathon.

What I learned from this (and why I want you to try it)

1. Doom-scrolling is a lid on a pot. The more we scroll, the more we repress our real feelings.

2. Emotions are like guests. If you don’t open the door and acknowledge them, they’ll just keep knocking louder (in the form of headaches, tension, or snapping at people you love).

3. Busy work is a distraction. We spend so much time listening to our “to-do list” that we forget to listen to our inner selves.

Would I do this every day? Nope. It won’t be realistic and probably would beat the purpose. But, I’ll definitely do it again in a month or two when the overwhelm starts to creep back in.

I 100% recommend trying this. Set a timer, sit on your bed or the floor, and just... exist. Let the TikTok/Reels sounds play out, let the anger visit, and wait for the sadness to pass. There is such a beautiful lightness waiting for you on the other side.

One of the parks in Helsingborg, Sweden. The flowers are blooming!

Welcome, May!

Annisa