There are moments in the day that feel oddly uncomfortable, even though nothing is wrong. A meeting ends early. A train is delayed. A task is finished sooner than expected. For a brief second, there is space – and almost immediately, the instinct is to fill it. We reach for our phones, open another tab, add something small to our to-do list. It’s a subtle reflex, one that keeps us in motion. And yet, I’ve been wondering what we might be interrupting in that exact moment – what could emerge if we allowed that space to remain unfilled.
The Art of Niksen
The Dutch concept of niksen is often translated as “doing nothing”, though it’s not quite that simple. It doesn’t mean scrolling, consuming, or even actively relaxing with intention. It’s closer to allowing oneself to exist without a clear purpose – sitting by a window, watching light shift, letting thoughts come and go without directing them.
At first, this can feel surprisingly difficult. Without a task to anchor attention, the mind searches for something to hold onto. There’s a quiet discomfort in not being productive, not improving, not optimizing. But this is precisely where niksen begins to work. It gently interrupts the habit of constant doing and creates space for something less structured, but often more restorative.
Why the Brain Needs Idle Time
Neuroscience offers an interesting perspective here. When we are not focused on a specific task, the brain doesn’t switch off. Instead, it activates what researchers call the default mode network – a set of regions associated with memory, self-reflection, and integrating experiences. According to “The Brain at Rest” by Joseph Jebelli, these moments of apparent inactivity are essential for cognitive health.
In this state, the brain processes what we’ve learned, connects ideas, and sometimes arrives at insights that structured thinking cannot reach. It’s also linked to emotional regulation – making sense of experiences rather than simply moving past them. When we continuously fill every gap with stimulation, we reduce the opportunities for this kind of internal work to happen.
The Discomfort of Boredom
If niksen is beneficial, why do we avoid it so quickly? Part of the answer lies in how we experience boredom. It is often framed as something negative – a sign that something is missing, that time is being wasted. In reality, boredom can be understood as a transition state: the mind stepping away from external input, not yet settled into internal exploration. In a work setting, this discomfort becomes even more visible in small, fleeting moments. A meeting ends early, and instead of letting the pause linger, someone fills it with “just one more thing”. A gap between tasks becomes a reflex to check messages or dashboards. These moments are subtle, but they reveal how uneasy we are with unstructured time – even when it appears naturally.
This in-between state can feel restless. Without immediate rewards or clear direction, attention drifts. Yet this is also where curiosity can re-emerge. Left undisturbed, boredom often transforms into reflection, imagination, or a quieter form of engagement. The difficulty is that this shift requires patience – and in modern environments, patience is rarely encouraged.
Relearning How to Pause
Introducing niksen into daily life doesn’t require dramatic changes. It can begin with noticing the small gaps that already exist – a few minutes between tasks, a pause before responding, a moment of waiting. Instead of filling them automatically, we can experiment with leaving them open. Not as a rule, but as a gentle alternative.
Over time, something subtle shifts. The need to constantly occupy attention softens. Thoughts become less fragmented. There is more room to notice, to connect, to think without urgency. In this way, doing nothing becomes quietly productive – not in the usual sense of output, but as a way of supporting clarity, creativity, and a more sustainable rhythm of work and rest.
A curious mind with a multidisciplinary flair, I’ve journeyed from biotech labs to the world of improvement management. With a PhD in cellular biology, I’ve dedicated years to unraveling scientific mysteries, authoring publications on cellular hypoxia and anti-cancer compounds, and contributing to the discovery of new therapies. Leading a project on motivation and empowerment ignited a passion for exploring how leadership, culture, and creativity influence the way we work. Now, as a PMI volunteer, I’m on a mission to help people and organizations thrive.