Our lives have become a competition of calendars. If there’s white space, we fill it. If there’s silence, we break it. Yet what if the missing ingredient for steadier moods and clearer thinking isn’t another app, but the exact opposite of effort? That is the quietly radical promise of “niksen” — the Dutch art of doing nothing — an antidote to the race none of us meant to enter.
It was a drizzly Tuesday in Amsterdam when I first noticed it. A woman at a canal-side café stared out at the grey water, hands wrapped around a lukewarm cup, not scrolling, not speaking, not trying. A cyclist paused under a bridge and didn’t check his phone. He just… let the rain be rain. For a few minutes, time loosened, like a tight shoe quietly unlaced. What if doing nothing is exactly the point?
What “niksen” really is — and what it isn’t
Niksen isn’t meditation, and it isn’t a productivity hack disguised as self-care. It’s purposeless idling: allowing your mind to drift without trying to fix, improve, or optimise. You sit. You look out of a window. You notice the light changing on the wall. That is enough. Niksen gives your nervous system a small holiday without leaving the room. It doesn’t ask you to breathe in a certain way, empty your mind, or turn it into a challenge you can win.
I learnt this from Joris, a project manager who keeps a career on track without letting it swallow him. Most afternoons, he parks himself by a window for five minutes and watches boats go by. No podcasts. No timers. He calls it “my nothing.” The Netherlands routinely ranks near the top of global work–life balance tables, and under 1% of Dutch employees regularly work very long hours. Those numbers don’t prove cause and effect. They do hint at a culture that leaves room for idle minutes.
Why does idle time help? Your brain runs a “default mode network” that lights up when you’re not engaged in a task. It’s the soft background hum where memories get stitched, ideas connect, and emotions settle. Skip that idle mode and you can feel foggy, brittle, overstimulated. Allow it, and your stress response steps back a pace. Cortisol ebbs. Mood steadies. Doing nothing isn’t wasted time; it’s maintenance time. Like letting soil lie fallow, niksen creates the quiet where resilience grows.
How to practise niksen without turning it into a job
Start small. Two minutes, once a day, anchored to something you already do. After you make tea, don’t sip and scroll — sip and stare. Pick a view: a plant, a window, the light on the floorboards. Set no goals. Don’t monitor your thoughts. Let them wander where they like. If they race, that’s fine. If they idle, that’s fine. This is not laziness; it’s breathing space.
Common traps? Turning niksen into a task you can fail. Or swapping “nothing” for “micro-productive” platforms. Doomscrolling isn’t niksen; it’s input. Be gentle with yourself when guilt pops up, because it will. We’ve all had that moment when stillness feels suspicious, like we’re bunking off. Let that thought pass like a bus you’re not catching. Let’s be honest: nobody actually does this every single day. Aim for most days. Miss some. Carry on.
Here’s the spirit of it from a Dutch therapist I met:
“Niksen is simply letting the present moment be unremarkable — and letting that be enough.”
- Pick a cue: kettle boils, train stops, lunch ends.
- Pick a spot: window, balcony, doorway, bench.
- Pick a number: two to five minutes. No timer if it stresses you.
- Protect it: phone face down, sound off, no sneaky podcasts.
Let space do its quiet work
Niksen won’t solve everything. It will make room for your mind to unclench. At first, those two minutes can feel itchy, like missing a step on stairs. Then something loosens. A knot unknots. You notice a thought you’d been avoiding. Or not. The point is the pause itself. Over weeks, that pause becomes muscle memory — a small, sturdy ritual that slows the mental weather.
It’s also oddly social. Sit with a friend in soft silence and you’ll sense their nervous system syncing with yours. Families can build it in after dinner. Teams can borrow two-minute windows before meetings. No one needs fancy tools. The world keeps spinning while you do less, and your mind thanks you with clearer edges. If you share one thing today, make it this: not every minute needs a mission.
| Key points | Details | Interest for reader |
|---|---|---|
| What niksen is | Purposeless idling that lets the mind wander without tasks or goals | Permission to rest without “performing” self-care |
| Why it helps | Engages default mode, eases stress, supports creativity and mood | Simple mental health boost with zero cost |
| How to start | Two–five minute windows after daily cues; protect from input | Practical steps you can try today |
FAQ :
- What exactly counts as niksen?Anything that feels like “unfocused idling”: gazing out, watching light shift, hearing ambient sounds. No purpose, no improvement agenda.
- How is it different from mindfulness or meditation?Mindfulness asks for deliberate attention. Meditation often has structure. Niksen has no task. You’re not trying to notice; you’re simply not trying.
- How long should I do it?Start with two minutes. Stretch to five or ten if it feels good. Frequency beats duration; little and often works well.
- Isn’t doing nothing just being lazy?Laziness avoids needed action. Niksen creates recovery space so action feels lighter later. Think of it as mental hygiene, like washing your hands.
- Can niksen help with burnout?It won’t replace therapy or structural change. It can lower baseline stress, reduce cognitive load, and make space for better choices during recovery.
“Doing nothing isn’t wasted time; it’s maintenance time” really landed with me. I’m definitly trying the kettle cue—sip and stare instead of sip and scroll. Curious to see if those itchy first minutes loosen after a week.
Isn’t this just rebranding idleness? For people juggling shifts or caregiving, “protect it: phone face down” feels a bit priviledged. Any advice for fitting niksen into crowded, noisy lives without it becoming another thing to fail at?