By Antonia Butler

I find it easier to return to being intentional with my attention in natural settings, and so have sought to go back into nature more often, specifically to find that re-centering

Kobuk River, Alaska, where Antonia started reading How To Do Nothing

I would highly recommend this book to anyone – How To Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell. It was recommended to me by someone at Taylor Street Farm while we were weeding last spring, and I finally got to reading it this summer, under unusual circumstances, I would say: While floating down the Kobuk river in the Alaskan Arctic circle. I was on a back-country rafting trip with my partner and 2 other friends. It was a great setting to start this book, since after chores were taken care of, we did a whole lot of “nothing” to fill the 23 hours of daylight: Chatting, snoozing, observing the river go by, spotting wildlife, watching the mountains move away while moving ‘around’ us (as the river wound around bends). There was no social media/ streaming/ internet/news to distract us due to the complete lack of reception. Just a whole lot of time to take in the world and my fellow-travellers.

This was a perfect setting to start practicing doing nothing and ‘resisting the attention economy’ because those were naturally part of our days. The book complimented the practice of observing my surroundings intentionally and slowly, and connecting more deeply with other people. I haven’t finished yet, but my main takeaways so far from this book are: The why and how to be intentional with your attention, and that ‘doing nothing’ is an important precursor to doing something more meaningful and thoughtful.

It is certainly a practice that takes some effort! I find it easier to return to being intentional with my attention in natural settings, and so have sought to go back into nature more often, specifically to find that re-centering. I’m lucky enough to live in a place with lots of nature nearby – a trip to the ocean, or backpacking in a national forest, or even just going to a city park or nearby creek: trees, water, birds remind me what a special experience life is, and to be intentional about what I give attention to.

Connect with Antonia on LinkedIn.

Kobuk River, Alaska. Once you’re fed, there’s time to do a whole lot of nothing.

About Antonia

Born in Hong Kong, Antonia grew up on a smallholding in rural Co. Carlow. Aged 6, when visiting her Canadian grandparents in Quebec City, Antonia announced that when she grew up she would move to Canada. True to her word, just before her 18^th birthday she landed in Montreal to pursue a degree in electrical engineering. In addition to graduating with honours, she helped establish a composting system for the university, after overcoming her astonishment that there wasn’t already one in place. As a creative soul, she balances the precise science of engineering in her job as a manager in a large electric car company in California with beautiful creative projects from hand-made cards to cakes baked with fruit from trees in her neighbourhood. She also volunteers at Garden To Table, a wonderful community garden where people learn about growing food, and sharing. Antonia says it reminds her of home. When she is home, she enjoys chopping wood because it combines an upper body strength workout with productive work.

About Doing Nothing at the Zen Garden Retreat

“It’s so hard to stop!”! said a cousin as we discussed the Zen Garden Retreat, an invitation to be still, to do nothing. In fairness, this cousin is raising her 5 teen-to-adult children mostly on her own while holding down a full time job. But it’s also attributable to her personality and upbringing. Decisive, seemingly always “up”,  the concept of stopping is unfamiliar – yet attractive.

During the January retreat, participants commented on how the time flew. Though we offer a light programme to allow plenty of down time, one woman said, “Didn’t we pack in a lot to just 2 full days and it never felt hurried or busy – the perfect tempo.”

Another friend who joined us for the retreat has “done” a lot of stillness. He has been to Nepal to sit, to learn to be still. With the guidance of a guru, he spent days into weeks into months learning to simply breathe, to meditate. The self awareness that grew from that, the clarity and the ability to feel very grounded in his decisions was deep. Of course, it’s not practical for many of us to take that route, but it’s anecdotal evidence (and there’s plenty of formal research on the benefits of meditation too), that stillness does us enormous good. My relatively limited experience of meditation has caused me to respond rather than react to those red buttons life keeps pushing, like magic. I wasn’t even trying to manage myself; it just happened after a couple of weeks of regular short meditations that I was calmer in the face of triggers.

The Zen Garden Retreat is somewhat unusual as it’s not a “wellness” retreat like most. We are right by the sea, which itself is therapy. It takes place in a luxurious, honey-hued house, made from the local limestone, all clean lines and uncluttered spaces, and very comfortable. When you step out onto the wrap-around patio, the views are unending – sea, sky, another rock (Malta), more sky, more sea. It’s a place where you naturally take deep breaths, wanting to savour the space, and the time. Your mind becomes less cluttered. You start to follow nature’s easy pace. You can meander through the lovely gardens, designed by a master Gozitan gardener (who you’ll meet on the retreat) and a renowned Irish landscape architect. It’s a real invitation to absorb the world, breathe in nature, and do a delicious heap of nothing.

It’s an antidote to burnout, a remedy for fatigue, therapy for the body, an elixir for the soul.

See more here. And join us, this February 12-15 or March 19-22.

The sea is always in view, here seen from the beautifully cultivated gardens.

The view from the rock beach.. Dive in!

Dive in!