idle

the antidote to hustle culture, urgency culture, consumer culture and capitalism

Yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life, and I wept with relief and happiness.

I never planned this.

I had no idea this was where we would end up. But I do live with the philosophy of saying yes to life and letting life, in her ultimate intelligence, guide and lead me.

I knew that there was a craving deep inside my soul.

So loud, so pure, so uncompromising that I could not ignore it. I wanted to extract myself from the world of constant distractions: always something to do, someone to see, something to add to the list, social media, TV shows, work, more work, more stuff to buy to numb my inertia.

Since 2020 happened I have been caught in a cycle of distraction, less able to sit quietly with myself or truly engage with the world around me.

I craved to replace this constant noise with being wholly consumed with the simplicity of living. So much so that I did not need nor want distraction from living and being.

I had to learn to be idle.

This morning I woke up to the sunrise, red streaks across the horizon of a purple sky, stripped naked and dove into the sea. This, I thought, is a start. I intend to spend my days teaching, talking, writing, creating, singing, playing, swimming, lounging and laughing.

Work is there. It anchors me and I am happy to have those commitments. And…

Mostly: I will be idle.

A month ago, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "Universe, I've run out of ideas. This next step is on you. You work it out. Because I can't do this by myself."

One kismet conversation led to another, and suddenly I was offered an invitation to move onto a beautiful catamaran with my cat and our friend Captain Alain to sail the world. It felt like the universe answering my call, offering me a chance to step out of the repetition of ‘normal’ life and rediscover a more nourishing form.

We are in the Balearic Islands on Menorca. In a few days when the winds pick up we are heading to my paternal origins of Sardinia, then south to Sicily, the Greek Islands, down to Tunisia, across to Turkey and then... let's see.

I hope to break free from the piercing, anxious apathy that brews in the blood and rediscover the joy of being fully present in each moment. It's a step towards reclaiming my agency and capacity to act rather than passively consuming out of a need for distraction.

In my journey to embrace a simpler, more fulfilling life, I've come to understand that there are two kinds of people.

— There are those obsessed with outcomes, desperately seeking stability, willing to sacrifice everything to achieve that goal.

— There are those who have let go of fixating on outcomes, instead pouring themselves fully into the fluid unpredictability of the present moment and the process itself.

For me — those living deeply in the moment — are truly the ones who are more vivid and alive.

It's not the ultra-disciplined person with a rigid lifestyle and endless list of goals who inspires me. Rather, I'm drawn to those who take the time to walk slowly, who dedicate themselves to a cherished hobby, or who can simply lay back and lose themselves in passions for hours.

These are the people who embody the essence of what it means to truly live and love.

In embracing this way of life — one that values presence, simplicity, and active care — we find ourselves more inspired and alive.

By focusing on the process rather than obsessing over outcomes, by nurturing the conditions for growth rather than fixating on the end result, we not only find more fulfilment in our own lives but also become a source of inspiration and support for others.

This is how we truly learn to love… ourselves, others, and the world around us.

In a world obsessed with hustle and bustle, where every second is monetised and optimised, there's a quiet rebellion brewing.

It's the art of being gloriously, unapologetically idle.

Not lazy, but present. Alive.

Awake to the whispers of the world that we usually rush past.

Idleness isn't about doing nothing; it's about doing nothing particularly "productive" and finding it spectacularly fulfilling.

It's life, raw and unfiltered, served straight up with a twist of kismet serendipity.

We've forgotten, in our mad dash to achieve and acquire, that we're dancing animals at heart. We love to move, to explore, to simply be.

Somewhere along the way, we traded our dance shoes for computer screens and our curiosity for convenience.

Here's the secret: In the spaces between the urgent emails and the rushed commutes, real life is waiting.

It's in the idle moments, the apparently "unproductive" times, that we stumble upon joy, connection, and meaning. It's where we remember who we are beyond our job titles and social media profiles.

So here's my invitation:

Join me in embracing idleness as a radical act of self-love and rebellion.

To reclaim our right to wander, wonder, and yes, to faff about. Because in a world that demands we constantly prove our worth through busyness and acquisition, choosing to be idle is choosing to be fully human.