As Slow as Possible
We don’t just inherit our skin tone or the colour of our eyes. We can also inherit our family’s story, narrative, and views about life.
How often do you spend time doing nothing?” I stare at my laptop screen with a blank face. I start stuttering, “Well… what do you mean with “nothing”? Like nothing at all? No phone? I mean, I meditate most mornings. Does that count as doing nothing?”
Of course not. A time when we really don’t do anything. Try it! It’s tough. Set a timer and lay on the sofa, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. When I tried it the next day, I was surprised at how strong my urge was to pick up my phone. I kept looking at the timer, thinking how slowly time ticked by. Allowing ourselves to simply “be” should not feel this hard, right?
We live in a world with no off switches anymore, and our burnout is blistering. And the funny thing about it is that most of us recognise our shrinking attention span, daily fatigue, and a constant feeling of being a little overwhelmed or left behind in life, yet we continue to follow in the same pattern day after day. Like hamsters running in a hamster wheel. Even when exhaustion and stress are staring at my face, a persistent voice in my head will downplay these emotions and tell me to tick one more thing off my to-do list. Only then am I worthy of rest… But even then, I cannot relax, as tomorrow’s to-do list is already waiting for me.
“You must work twice as hard to be half as good.”
That’s one of the first lessons many immigrant children learn from their parents. A simple sentence filled with intergenerational trauma rooted in racism, xenophobia, and other forms of prejudice. My grandparents and parents were living examples of this narrative. Hardworking immigrants, walking on eggshells all their life, trying not to stand out in any negative way in a country where they were “guests”. Yet, it was never enough to be fully accepted. Once a Gastarbeiter, always a Gastarbeiter.
A lot of us immigrant children internalised this lesson — that success demanded perfection — but guess what? I need to disappoint you. It still might not be enough. For most of my life, I thought I would be more worthy by working hard, studying at a top university abroad, and getting a good job in a high-profile company, but the harder I worked, the bigger the mountain grew — with no end in sight. This simple lesson from my parents transformed into a core belief that I had to be perfect. I used to feel extremely happy when my dad showed off to his peers that I was studying in England. I now realise how toxic it is for immigrant parents to constantly show off and compete over whose child is the most successful. For decades, my identity and self-worth were defined by my achievements. This persistent voice still reminds me that I have no right to complain about my workload or life’s demands when I don’t work as hard as my parents did. Not only did they work hard, but they also put up with racism daily and made so many sacrifices to offer me this life.
Over the past couple of years, I have reflected a lot on these things; even though our parents had the best intentions to prepare us and give us the best chance possible in an unfair world that will devalue us for our race, ethnicity, and gender, it undoubtedly has serious negative consequences. Personally, I felt paralysed for many years because I feared failure and being seen as lazy by society. This sense of paralysis was (and sometimes still is) unwavering and debilitating, preventing true personal and professional growth in life.
Now, I’m learning that my self-worth is not defined by my accomplishments. I’m learning that I can forgive myself if I make mistakes. I’m also learning that I have the right to rest. Doing “nothing” seems the opposite of our society’s obsession with “achieving more”. Rest is our next most basic and essential need besides food and water. It’s time for us to be more deliberate with resting physically and mentally.
I’ve been taking baby steps and making minor changes in my life. Mornings are the most essential time for me. I only turn my phone on once I have had at least half an hour to myself. I also plan “do nothing” evenings. I’m trying to shift my mindset around doing nothing. Because in the end, we are doing something: we are taking an essential and healthy break to recharge ourselves. In my case, this means no phone, schedule, or commitments. But I realise that doing nothing will look different for different people.
Most importantly, it’s about having awareness whenever guilt arises. “Awareness is the greatest agent for change,” said Eckhart Tolle. We don’t need to overanalyse every emotion or thought, but we can simply pause and allow things to pass through. We don’t just inherit our skin tone or the colour of our eyes. We can also inherit our family’s story, narrative, and views about life. It’s time we break the chain.
With love, your friend, Tuğba
I so relate to this Tugba. My Irish grandfather jumped ship in Australia a the start of the second world war for the chance to build a life away from the poverty he grew up with in Ireland. My parents generation were raised in the hard times after the war, at a time when the area they were occupying in Australia was rough as guts. I was constantly told I was lazy any time I wasn't doing something really hard. I just returned from 16 days of "holiday" in Portugal during which I worked the entire time. I couldn't stomach taking the entire time off so I squeezed in clients and client work in the evenings. It took me 10 days to be able to actually relax on the beach during the day, when I wasn't working.
So much work to do around this (notice how I used the word "work" to describe healing?), so much releasing and forgiving and letting go. My work (which I love) requires me to be available for the people I serve, so next year I am resolved to try one week on, one week off over a 4 week period.