Il Dolce far Niente

With the influx of ‘50 days left at 2500 Main Street’ posts and seniors shopping for graduation dresses, it seems like the end of the 2023-24 school year has snuck up on us: how many times have you heard the phrase “time moves differently at Lawrenceville” or felt infinitely-long days trip into finals week without warning? We rush from one class to another, deeply immersed in the pursuit of achievement chasing badge after badge yet perpetually striving for more. Lawrentians often feel guilty for ‘doing nothing,’ equating success with busyness. We live in a culture of achievement; our goals energize us. But life, even at Lawrenceville, is more than a series of accomplishments to be collected—baked into the pursuit of excellence is a disregard for the present moment.

What happens to us when we are constantly focused on the next thing, whether it’s mindlessly checking the boxes on an ICPS worksheet or doom-scrolling frantically from post to post? Inundated with distractions, our minds rarely have the opportunity to go ‘offline’ and engage in the kind of deep, uninterrupted thought necessary for creativity to flourish. Neuroscientists assert that boredom is good medicine for your brain—it amps up one’s engagement with their surroundings. In fact, New York schools will require two to five minutes of “Mindful Breathing” each day starting next fall, intended to promote physical and mental health. Lawrentians cannot allow our goals to propel us so powerfully that we diminish our capacity for living in the present. Only looking to the future means forgoing the enjoyment we can derive from appreciating what we have in the moment. Living in the present doesn’t only mean feeling grateful for what you have, but rather allowing yourself to feel and react to the world around you without the burden of perpetually considering what it could mean for the future.

It’s important to remember that we are human beings, not human “doings”. None of us are meant to be constantly in action, moving and pursuing with no pause. For instance, the Dutch language includes the word Niksen, defined as “the practice of doing nothing as a means of relieving stress; idle activity, as staring into the trees with no purpose other than relaxation.”; the Italians call this Il Dolce far Niente, translating to "the sweetness of doing nothing." Niksen is not shorthand for being lazy and Il Dolce far Niente is not an idiom that promotes indolence– what they both point to is the pleasure of simply being. If we wish to be our best and most creative selves, perhaps some of that would help: we could shut off the engine, rest, and just exist. We need to wind down, recharge, and allow ourselves to daydream.

Humans are meant to reflect, not solely for a class or any other specific purpose, but to be alone with our thoughts. In these moments of quiet reflection, we truly connect with ourselves and our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. When we pause and make sense of the world around us, we process our experiences, both positive and negative, and learn from them. “Doing nothing” helps us gain perspective on our lives, goals, and values. Time taken for your own peace and betterment is never wasted—perhaps we should pencil it into our schedules more often. 

In the end, it’s not just about what we get out of Lawrenceville, but what we get out of life itself. As our school lives exemplify, fulfilling that potential requires balance. While we can develop by pursuing extrinsic goals, taking time off—a break, a bout of boredom to refuel our creativity and to reflect—is what facilitates a fulfilled and thoughtful life. Maybe wake up early and bask in a sunny window from time to time or take the time to try out a new exploration with a friend. There is no such thing as a waste of time and you never know what you’ll miss out on if you never stop and do nothing. So take the moment to look up from whatever you’re doing. Put down this paper. Take in the people around you. Memorize their faces. Sniff in their scents. Don’t let goodbye sneak up on you.