When Rest Feels Restless

The Art of Doing Nothing… Isn’t for Everyone

I recently gave myself something I’ve never really had before: a full 15 days off to just chill. No meetings. No calendars. No to-do lists. I stacked up a watchlist of shows, planned catch-ups with friends, gave myself permission to eat freely, and committed to doing absolutely nothing productive (in my dictionary). I even gave it a name — NIKSEN fortnight, inspired by the Dutch concept of doing nothing purposefully.

It was meant to be restful. Restorative. A little rebel act against my hyper-structured life.

But the truth is, I hated it.

I didn’t rest. I didn’t feel relaxed. If anything, I felt more anxious.
I was counting down the days for this so-called chill calendar to end. I missed my 5:30 am wake-ups. I missed my structured writing and reading sessions. I missed intentional eating. I missed walks. I missed… my rhythm.

Somewhere in this forced version of rest, I felt unanchored. My energy dipped. My sleep got worse. And to my surprise, the very practices I thought I needed a break from turned out to be the ones that make me feel most alive.

That’s when it hit me. Maybe my definition of chilling is wrong. Maybe rest doesn’t always look like stillness. Maybe for some of us, structured flow is the real rest.

I’m currently reading Never Not Working, and it feels like the author reached into my head. It’s a book for people who don’t know how to rest the conventional way. For whom doing nothing feels like an existential itch.

This experiment didn’t fail. It revealed something important.
Rest doesn’t have to mean stopping everything. It can mean reconnecting with what fills you up.
A long walk. A mindful meal. A slow writing session. A boundary around what matters.

I now realize I don’t need a vacation from my routine. I need a deeper connection within it.
And no, I’m not dreading retirement anymore. I’m just going to have to redesign it.