I am seated on a park bench. The trees sway in the wind. The squirrels ruffle in the grass. The birds sing from the treetops. It feels as though I am in a real life painting. A deep sense of contentment and restfulness wash over me as the breeze brushes across my skin. These moments of reprieve I call “empty spaces.”
This feeling, so serene, made me realize how nourished I feel when I take time for those moments of stillness. I found myself reflecting upon those moments of empty space hidden throughout each day and how necessary they are for me in order to feel clear headed. Those moments where I typically reach for my phone while I’m in line at the grocery store or as I wait to meet up with a friend. However, those are micro moments that can be used as mini meditation reboots, to come back to myself, to notice life’s inherent beauty, to simply notice what’s around me. Pockets of peace, a landing spot each day, an opportunity for mindfulness to re-establish a sense of presence and participation in my own life.
Yesterday, I had an afternoon free of any obligations, commitments, and must-do chores. I cannot remember the last time I had that open space in my day. I found myself thinking: “How can I optimize this time most productively?” I started thinking of errands I could do to get ahead, chores I could get done, people I could reach out to. My inclination was “how can I fill the empty space?” I was taken aback by how instinctive it was for me to try and fill that open gap in my day.
Counterintuitively, I chose not to fill the empty space. Instead, I chose to be fully present, and let the empty space remain just that. I leaned into this opportunity for leisure and rest which is harder than it seems. I laid on a park bench and let the sun gaze upon my face. I looked up at the trees and enjoyed their serene presence. I smiled as I watched the wind gently sway the branches and dance with the leaves amidst the treetops.
I practiced presence.
I felt like I was reconnecting with my soul’s energy charging system: mindfulness, nature, and stillness.
It made me think of an Italian phrase I recently came upon that describes this so simply, yet poignantly:
Dolce far niente.
It means the sweetness, the joy, the pleasure of doing nothing. How beautiful is that? How would our lives and inner world transform if we allowed ourselves this room for leisure and simplicity? Allowing empty spaces to be empty spaces, whether it’s five minutes between meetings or a glorious 2 hours on a Sunday afternoon?
Empty spaces are a landing place to admire the view of life, to come back home to ourselves, to feel our breath, much like a landing place while on a hike. A moment of reprieve. We find that those moments to catch our breath—both figuratively and literally—are truly necessary in order to keep up with life and enjoy the view.
I gently urge you to notice these empty spaces throughout your day and simply allow them to be just that. A gift to honor life’s ordinary sacredness. A practice of presence. An opportunity to leave empty, not filling it with busyness, distraction, and unnecessary obligation.
I understand we all have different time limitations. I understand this is a form of privilege to have the ability for “dolce far niente.” However, I truly believe it is required in order to live a life that doesn’t just pass us by. No matter how much time you have, this is something to be cultivated.
Below are some ideas to practice cultivating those moments of empty space in your life, inspired by the Italian way of dolce far niente:
First ask yourself:
What does rest look like to me? What makes me feel restored?
What comes to mind when I think of living leisurely?
Think of dolce far niente as allowing your mind and soul to feel the joy and contentment we often equate with going on vacation except we are implementing this throughout our ordinary day and week. When we live this way, our actual vacations become an extension of this interior contentment, not an escape from a life that is too demanding, impossibly busy and much too stressful. We don’t want to show up in life as burnt toast.
Everyone is different. For some, true rest is getting into the kitchen and making homemade pasta. For others, it’s reading quietly by a brook surrounded by all of the nature sounds. Take an inventory of your energy needs and go from there.
How to create your own daily dolce far niente experience:
Notice the empty spaces throughout your day. Instead of filling them up with one more thing, take this as a mini meditation reboot. Focus on your breath, look around you, savor what’s in front of you. Or, build a connection with someone next to you in line at the grocery store. Pay them a compliment, an act of kindness. This brings sweetness, joy and pleasure into ordinary moments. That’s what it’s all about!
Be mindful and protect your energy and emotional reserves. If you feel your tank is getting close to empty, that’s a sign that you need to take a step back and recalibrate. Rather than waiting until you’ve crashed and burned, turn to the wisdom of dolce far niente, lean back, and do something leisurely for yourself. If that feels impossible to do, the more important it is that you do it. “Doing nothing” isn’t lazy. It’s called rest. We all need it. Honor it.
Dolce far niente is beautiful to be experienced alone, or in community with others. It’s about true connection, not about the highlight reel. Delete your social media for a day or even a week. Notice how many empty spaces you have in your day without even having to try! Take that extra time to spend intentionally and mindfully. Create space for leisure simplicity, whatever that means for you.
Be mindful of when you check your emails and when you catch up on texts. I often set aside a specific time and set a timer to respond to texts that have accumulated throughout the day. I call these “technology errands” and it helps me to compartmentalize texting throughout the day.
I hope these tips inspire you to seek out the sweetness, joy, and pleasure of leisure simplicity and help create space in your life. May you experience the Italian art of “Dolce far niente.” And hey, while you’re at it, go ahead and make yourself a bowl of pasta and eat it with your full attention! We’ll call it pasta meditation—it very well may be your favorite meditation yet! .
P.S. The picture featured above was taken when I was in Italy in June. It was my favorite dish there: trennete al pesto! Deliziosa!