Hey there, fellow overthinkers and perpetual doers. If you’re anything like me, the idea of “doing nothing” for even a few minutes sounds like a cruel joke. But that’s exactly what I stumbled into while diving into Suleika Jaouad’s The Book of Alchemy. This gem of a book packs 100 daily essays and prompts designed to spark creativity, and today’s entry—titled “Be Slow” and penned by Rachel Schwartzmann—hit me right in my productivity-obsessed soul.
The prompt? Simple: Take 5 minutes to do absolutely nothing. Then, jot down what you experienced, thought, or realized. Sounds zen, right? Call me a skeptic, but I didn’t buy it. How much could really happen in 300 seconds of stillness? My brain’s a hamster wheel on steroids—always spinning with to-dos, random lyrics, and half-forgotten memories. So, this morning, I decided to test it. I plopped down at my desk, set a timer, and committed to writing down every single thought that popped up. No filtering, no judging. Just pure, unadulterated stream of consciousness.
To say it was “active” would be the understatement of the year. Welcome to the wild ride inside my head…
The Raw Dump: My 5-Minute Brain Explosion
Here’s the list, exactly as I scribbled it down in real-time:
• Costco
• Chiropractor
• Anxiety
• Fan
• Laughing
• Office
• Track Food
• Three Doors Down – You Love Me But You Don’t Know Who I Am
• What a croc!
• Rocky V
• Three Men and a Little Lady
I know, I know. If you’re reading this and thinking (in the immortal words of Buzz Lightyear), “Wow. You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity,” you’re not alone. At first glance, it looks like the ramblings of someone who hit their head on the way to the coffee maker. But stick with me—this chaotic jumble turned out to be surprisingly revealing.
Decoding the Madness: What It All Meant
Sitting still was harder than I expected. My brain rebelled like a toddler in a candy store, constantly yanking me toward tasks or distractions. I had to keep reeling myself back in, refocusing on the quiet. Here’s the breakdown of what each thought actually represented, in the context of my mental whirlwind:
• Costco and Chiropractor: Boom—errands mode activated. These are both on my afternoon agenda. I need to confirm my chiropractor appointment (calling when they open later), and Costco? Well, who doesn’t need bulk toilet paper? These popped up first, totally unrelated to the exercise, but classic examples of my brain’s “get stuff done” autopilot.
• Anxiety: Less than a minute in, and there it was—a subtle nudge of unease. I’m wired for action; stillness feels like slacking off. I get anxious when I’m not “productive,” even though I know deep down I could use more of this downtime. It’s a reminder that my natural bend toward hustle isn’t always a virtue.
• Fan: Finally, a moment of presence. I tuned into the sounds around me—the gentle hum of my Amacool desk fan, the cool breeze keeping me comfy. It sparked a wave of gratitude for my wife, who gifted it to me. She’s a wizard at taking care of the little things that make life smoother. In that quiet, I appreciated how these everyday comforts ground me.
• Laughing and Office: These tied into the sensory stuff. The “laughing” was me chuckling at how ridiculous this all felt, and “office” was just acknowledging my surroundings—the desk, the hum, the familiarity. A brief nod to the here and now before my mind wandered again.
• Track Food: Panic strikes again! I remembered I hadn’t logged my morning calories in MyFitnessPal yet. Another to-do item crashing the party, like those little emotions in Disney’s Inside Out fighting for control. Joy? Anger? More like Taskmaster Fear taking the wheel.
• Three Doors Down – You Love Me But You Don’t Know Who I Am: Right on cue for the Inside Out vibe, this earworm hit. (It’s actually “Let Me Go,” but close enough—my brain’s not great with titles under pressure.) Why this song? No clue. It’s catchy, I love the band, and apparently, my mental DJ thought it was the perfect soundtrack for attempted zen. I could picture the little red Anger character from the movie fuming as the tune looped endlessly.
• What a croc!: A random outburst of disbelief—or just a random line that came to mind which led me to the face of a little girl in a movie which led me to Tom Selleck which led me to the next thing in the list which is where I first heard the phrase What a croc.
• Rocky V and Three Men and a Little Lady: And just like that, time travel. Suddenly, I’m back in late November 1990, 12 years old, begging my mom to drop me at the movies. I watched Rocky V (which, oddly, I didn’t even like the previous Rockies that much), then snuck out, bought another ticket, and caught Three Men and a Little Lady. I’d seen the first one, but really? At 12, alone? The real mystery: Why did my parents greenlight this solo adventure? Pre-teen me was living on the edge, apparently.
All of that—in just 5 minutes. From errands to existential gratitude, from Disney analogies to ‘90s movie marathons. It’s a snapshot of my daily mental gymnastics: turning mundane tasks into epic detours through time and emotion.
The Takeaway: Why You Should Try This (Even If It Sounds Nuts)
This little experiment was eye-opening. I had no idea so much was bubbling under the surface in such a short time. It highlighted how my brain defaults to productivity, distraction, and nostalgia—anything to avoid true stillness. But forcing the pause? It brought clarity, gratitude, and even a laugh at the absurdity of it all.
If you’re a skeptic like me, give it a shot. Grab a timer, sit down, and let your thoughts flow unchecked. You might uncover errands you forgot, songs you love, or childhood memories you didn’t know were lurking. In a world that glorifies hustle, “Be Slow” is a radical act of self-care. Who knows? Your 5 minutes could be the most productive non-productive time you’ve had all week.
What about you? Have you tried something like this? Drop your stream-of-consciousness stories in the comments—I’d love to hear how your brain rebels (or relaxes). And if you’re intrigued by the book, The Book of Alchemy is a good one. Slow down, tune in, and see what magic unfolds.
David Willis 