Before starting at Scripps College, the adults in my life imparted three pieces of advice for success: “say yes to everything,” “step outside your comfort zone” and “stay busy.” So far, I’ve listened — maybe a little too well.
Now a sophomore, I artfully constructed my Google Calendar into a rainbow puzzle of overlapping boxes. My days start with volunteering, followed by back-to-back classes, frisbee practice, newspaper meetings and band rehearsal. I wedge club events, activities with friends and meetings with professors into the crevices. I feel motivated to fill any and all white space. If I don’t constantly take advantage of the endless opportunities available to me, how can I make the most of my tuition and time spent at the 5Cs?
Well, the semester is coming to a close and I’m running into a problem: I still don’t know what I want to major in and, more generally, what I want to do after I graduate. I have identified my strongest areas of interest — writing, psychology and Spanish —but am still questioning the best way to combine them. I enrolled in the classes that intrigued me; I had lunch with professors; I joined relevant clubs. I filled my Google Calendar to the max. But spending so much time and effort running from task to task leaves little space for contemplation and reflection. Always “doing something” has become paradoxically unproductive when it comes to assessing these bigger questions. What would happen if I tried the opposite?
Doing nothing actually boosts creative problem-solving. When your mind wanders aimlessly, you can experience creative breakthroughs. A July 2025 Nature study showed that mind wandering predicted improvement in a creative writing task, while using the same time to think about the writing itself did not. In other words, the best ideas often come to you when you least expect it. If I paused my day-to-day activity to just do nothing, research shows that I might stumble upon an “aha” moment.
Doing nothing also fosters adaptive learning; scientific research shows that being in a mental rest state supports neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to form and reorganize synaptic connections in response to experience. Resting also de-emphasizes critical judgment and frees up brain space for new ideas. This explains why people experience creative epiphanies while lying in bed before falling asleep. If every waking hour is committed to scheduled activities and tasks to accomplish, the only time a busy student’s mind can rest is in these fleeting moments before sleep. This limited time is not sufficient.
So what can “doing nothing” look like?
The college environment pushes the narrative that whenever a student stops engaging in academically productive work, they are taking a break — therefore, “doing nothing.” Hanging out with friends, going to the gym or shopping for clothes may all constitute study breaks, but the brain is still very much “online.”
Truly “doing nothing” is the absence of purposeful activity, the real-world representation of the white space on a Google Calendar. Whether it’s lying on Elm Tree Lawn and staring up at the clouds, or setting out for a walk to no place in particular, this kind of “offline” mode involves finding the time and space to let your mind wander.
Earlier this week, I decided to give it a try. I saw a two-hour window in my Google Calendar and, instead of checking Instagram to find some event to fill that space, I intentionally left it blank. I sat in a near-empty Seal Court, leaned back in one of those green plastic chairs and idly stared at the turtles. The absence of expectations induced deep self-reflection. A new insight surfaced: Deep down, I want to major in writing above all else, and I don’t have to pressure myself to double major just to make pursuing this passion more valid. Now I was starting to get somewhere.
Yes, one typical measure of collegiate success is the density of activities that fill a resume. I can “say yes to everything,” constantly “step outside my comfort zone” and “stay busy” — maxing out my GCal as a result. However, I am now coming to the realization that this formula is incomplete and therefore flawed. College is not just a to-do list; personal growth, often intangible, is fostered as much from periods of inactivity as it is from tangible achievement. Allowing space for self-reflection is essential for figuring out the complex, far-reaching decisions that occur at this stage of life.
Asking questions in class, networking with industry professionals and engaging in club activities will help shape my career path. But it wasn’t until I stopped pursuing an overly dense schedule and tried taking intentional breaks to do nothing that I could begin to find clarity on what I actually might want my career to look like down the line.
It’s true that I’m only a sophomore and have years before Scripps Senior Naked Brunch, so why make space for idleness now? I’ll have time for contemplation later on, right? Well, with limitless prospects to explore, it’s way too easy to succumb to the urge to keep filling the calendar. Next year, I’m studying abroad; soon after, I’ll have to start considering grad school applications. Rest and reflection isn’t something I can dismiss and put off for later because that time won’t magically open up.
Looking ahead at my upcoming week, I excitedly anticipate the empty space — however limited — in my Google Calendar. Rather than seeing this free time as an opportunity for more scheduled activity, I plan to intentionally leave those spots on the canvas blank. Catch me sauntering down Sixth Street with my head in the clouds, making space for my next great epiphany.
“Doing nothing often leads to the very best of something.” – Winnie the Pooh
Joelle Rudolf SC ’28 is a busy college sophomore who anxiously anticipates her Thanksgiving break, where she plans to do a whole lot of nothing.