The Art of Not Doing

I sat on a log for forty minutes today.

Not because I was tired.
Not because I was resting between climbs.
I just... sat.

No phone. No podcast. No mental to-do list.
Just me and the sound of creek water
moving over rocks I couldn't see.

The first ten minutes were uncomfortable.
That itch to be productive.
To justify the time.
To at least take a photo so the moment
could count for something.

But I didn't.

I just sat there like a log myself.
Breathing. Existing.
Not trying to fix anything.
Not working toward anything.

And somewhere around minute twenty,
my nervous system finally believed
I wasn't about to ask it to perform.

Shoulders dropped.
Jaw unclenched.
The static hum in my chest
that I don't even notice until it's gone—
gone.

I used to think healing required action.
Protocols. Practices. Progress.
Something I could point to and say:
See? I'm working on it.

But some days, the most radical thing I can do
is absolutely nothing.

Not rest as recovery.
Not stillness as strategy.
Just being.

The creek doesn't hustle.
The trees don't optimize.
The moss doesn't track its growth metrics.
They just exist. And in that existence,
they do exactly what they're meant to do.

Maybe we're the same.

Maybe sometimes the work isn't working at all.
It's stopping long enough to remember
we're allowed to exist without earning it.

I'm not good at this yet.
Most days, I still fill every gap with motion.
Still justify rest by calling it something productive.
Still feel guilty for just sitting on a log
when I could be hiking.

But I'm learning.

There's a kind of healing that only happens
when you stop trying to heal.
When you let your body believe, just for a minute,
that it doesn't have to be anything other than alive.

That forty minutes on the log?
Did more for my nervous system
than the six miles I hiked to get there.

Not because sitting is better than moving.
Because sometimes the deepest work
is giving yourself permission
to do absolutely nothing at all.

* * *

→ Related: The Wisdom of Slowness
→ Also: Letting the Soil Rest

If this landed:

Start with Layer One when building from ground zero
Try a micro-ritual for a 2-5 minute reset
Explore Field Notes for trail reflections

Peer reflection, not therapy advice. Your healing journey is uniquely yours.