The Space Between Doing & Being–
Reflections From an Unemployed Girl & a Summer with an Empty Calendar
Time. We base so much of our lives around it, these numbers on the clock that tell us what we need to be doing and when. When we’re busy, there’s never “enough of it,” and then once we finally get that break we’ve been craving, suddenly there’s “too much time on our hands”.
I’ve always struggled with that balance. The space between staying busy and truly relaxing, between doing and simply being.
Even when I know what is best for my soul, there’s a part of me always pushing me and pulling me to do it differently, to do more, to fill the time. Sometimes we’re so conditioned to be productive that we feel guilty in the empty space, and it feels hard to give ourselves permission to rest. And sometimes we find that always doing something keeps us from truly facing and acknowledging and feeling all the things we need to feel. So maybe it becomes convenient for us to stay busy, stay distracted, be “on the go”. Do we really NEED to do ALL the things, ALL the time? And when we do who is it benefiting? We’re “accomplishing” things maybe – yes, but are we living, are we growing, are we being the people we want to be in the world?
I decided that this summer would be a healing. After wrapping up three intense years in a couseling graduate program, including a final year that included a heavy internship and the end of a long-term relationship, all while navigating the realities of chronic illness – I was done – physically, spiritually, emotionally. I had pushed through and made it through still appearing semi-functional, but I knew if I didn’t take a break that I would break.
I felt like I lost myself more than just a little bit somewhere along the process. I needed rest – for my sanity, for my mental and physical wellness, for the benefit of any future clients I would have, and for that of the people in my life.
There’s this relentless cultural pressure from every angle of our society that we can’t just exist in the space for a minute. Even our vacations are often filled with itineraries and to-do lists. We don’t know how to not do.
Our bodies may be breaking down, our minds foggy, our social energy depleted. We’re there but we’re not really there. We’re talking, responding, hearing, but are we really listening? Do our actions and our experiences have meaning or intention? We’re filling our schedules, replying to all the emails, checking all the boxes off the list, we are doing, but are we even there?
I gave myself the break and I allowed myself to live more simply again – being more frugal, eating at home, no more coffee splurges, allowed myself to rest and wake up without a plan for the first time in a while.
At first I found it to be uncomfortable. The empty time made me feel lazy, unproductive. And it forced me to face all the painful and confusing feelings that my busy schedule had helped me to avoid. The shift from a full schedule to an empty one brought up a lot of emotions and what sometimes felt like a little too much reflective thinking. But just because it’s uncomfortable doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary and important. I reminded myself that I can be with all of these messy, sad, scary, and difficult feelings. I can exist with all of that still be okay.
So this summer has become my reset. No job, no school, no vacation or social events planned – just a whole lot of time with myself. I wake up each day to nothing on the schedule.
In that space, I’ve been reconnecting. Re-attuning to my body, my mind, my emotions, my thoughts. But also to my passions, my purpose, my meaning. I’m rebuilding healthier habits, becoming more mindful of my eating habits and food choices. I’m allowing myself to just sleep when I need to sleep. I’ve had the space to see what was helping and what was hurting my well-being. I’ve been giving more attention to how and when I use my phone and social media.
Instead of being frustrated at time, I’ve allowed myself to once again be okay existing in it. I’ve remembered how to love my own presence, to value and appreciate my gifts and how I can use those to help others.
What at times we might call stagnancy, I like to reframe as stillness. Our culture seems to value movement, but so much of our life’s value happens in the quiet, the calm, the unnoticed. It’s in that seemingly unseen space that growth often happens.
This stillness doesn’t come easily for us. It requires practice, permission, and safety.
In the stillness, I’m being reminded of the beauty in the little things again. Waking up from a really good nap and appreciating the feeling of being rested and relishing in it. Feeling the deep shift in my muscles as I stretch and simultaneously recognizing the gift of my body. Simply sitting or lying in the sunshine and feeling the warmth and light on my skin. Gentle animal snuggles. Laughter and silliness with my niece. Mindfully cooking, eating, savoring food and recognizing its nourishing power. Cherishing a friend’s presence, appreciating a compliment. Recognizing the small signs of growth, the little wins.
The little things are the big things. And slowing down may just be the most productive thing we can do. This rest period hasn’t been about doing nothing, but more so about doing things differently. With intention, with joy, with curiosity and openness.
I’ve gotten into routines that nourish me, and started doing meaningful hobbies that I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. Daily meditation practice, exercise regime, and Spanish practice. I challenged myself to try Muay Thai boxing and I’ve been regularly attending classes at a local gym. I am catching up on art projects, writing and channeling my energy into creating again. I’m taking time to call people and be more present for them. I started a small project of preparing and handing out meals to unhoused members in my community, really setting an intention to pause and hear their stories.
These are the things that get lost in the hustle. These little things that spark our joy, curiosity, connection. The things that challenge us in ways we never expected. These are the things that matter.
Though I deeply value presence and mindfulness, I struggle with trying to do too much all at once and often end up overcommitting. I compare myself to people who seem to do it all and still have energy for more. I am impressed how they manage to do the full-time job, the full-time school, all the side hustles, and seemingly still maintain their mental health and energy to socialize. I’ve always struggled with that grind mentality and seem to get depleted much quicker than those around me do. Living with a chronic illness that’s main symptoms are relentless fatigue and brain fog has forced – or taught – me to slow down, but also how to be intentional. I’ve had to stop comparing and start learning that it’s okay for me to be exactly as I am.
It’s okay to stop, to rest, to not fill every minute of every day. And it’s okay if our rest looks different from that of someone else, or if we need more or less of it than they do. Just because it looks different from the next person, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Learn to love your process, your timeline, your journey, even if it might feel like you’re falling behind or might look different from those around you. And don’t be too hard on yourself when it doesn’t go as you planned or hoped, and when what you thought you needed wasn’t what you needed after all.
So here’s a litle reminder: it’s okay to take a break, to breathe, to enjoy the little things in life, to celebrate your accomplishments for a minute before jumping to the next thing. And it’s okay if you’re still figuring it all out, if the path doesn’t feel as straightforward for you as it might seem to everyone else.
One of my counseling professors used to share a simple yet powerful analogy to remind us and our future clients how to truly savor the therapeutic gains. He compares it to the process of getting ice cream: after all the effort we go to- deciding what flavor we want, going to the shop, and bringing it home, you need to eat the ice cream. In other words, allow yourself to feel the good that comes from your progress and your journey.
Relish in the warmth of a lazy day snuggling with your dog, the laughter with your friends, and the spark of inspiration from getting into a flow state of creating. But also allow yourself to sit in the depth of your grief and pain for what you lost and all the things that have changed. Allow yourself to feel again.
When I think of embracing the little things, I always think about my grandma, my kindred spirit, who I always felt exemplified what it meant to truly enjoy life and rest. My favorite memory of her is always of her peacefully napping in the sunshine on her back deck, always a gentle smile on her face.
So let’s remember that space is okay. Despite whatever the busyness and chaos of the world around you or the voices in your head seem to be saying. Even if it feels strange or uncomfortable. Know that you can handle it, you can be with it, you can learn from it.
It’s not always about accomplishing. Stillness doesn’t mean stagnancy. In stillness, we allow for reflection, restoration, clarity, and presence. And just maybe somewhere in all that stillness we end up finding the kind of movement we were seeking all along.
Making Mindful 