When "Not Working" Becomes Your Actual Job

✨ In this episode. The Unscheduled Life: When "Not Working" Becomes Your Actual Job

L'horloge du café est détraquée, le serveur s'en fiche et moi, j'essaie.

Somewhere between the third sip of espresso and the second croissant, it occurs to me: doing nothing is the hardest work of all.

The question on the table this morning, as I sip this slightly-too-strong French espresso, is deceptively simple: How does one define "vacation"?

The conventional answer—an enduring triumph of corporate minimalism—is: "Not Working."

But that tidy phrase immediately opens a philosophical can of worms. When is life working, and when is it not? If the highest measure of vacation is simply the absence of labor, then most of our existence amounts to a relentless, unpaid internship for a job we never applied for.

We've been conditioned to believe that life works when it's maximally efficient, tightly scheduled, and aimed at the shimmering horizon of "success." Vacation, then, becomes a pre-approved pressure valve—a two-week ritual where we aggressively relax by running a full schedule of museums, selfies, and mandatory family togetherness.

🇫🇷 The French Revelation

Here in France, I've discovered a different kind of physics. The moment you stop scheduling your life—when you trade the tyrannical Google Calendar for the sweet anarchy of wandering conversations, lingering lunches, meandering thoughts, and unapologetic curiosity—time itself forgets to move.

The French don't plan their joy; they let it wander in uninvited. One story, one glass of wine, one unscripted hour at a café table—and suddenly, the clock disappears into a blissful, borderless now.

That, dear reader, is the achievement of true relaxation. You're no longer working life; you're simply living it.

Now, if you'll indulge me, it's time for The Self-Serving Sermon—a brief spiritual message sponsored by unapologetic idleness.

Many great thinkers, bless their noble hearts, have preached: "Life is serving others." And yes, that's beautiful. But I ask you—try serving others when your own tank is running on three hours of doom-scrolling and a microwaved burrito. You're not serving; you're slightly inconveniencing your exhaustion for someone else's benefit.

I'm beginning to think the real secret to balance—and that elusive durée, that French sense of timelessness—is this: learn to serve yourself first. Not selfishly, but energetically.

Serve your own curiosity. Your need for quiet. Your desire to sit and watch a pigeon debate the structural integrity of a baguette. When you're charged, centered, and genuinely curious, you can serve others not from obligation, but from overflow.

Stop treating relaxation like a line item on your quarterly budget. A vacation is when you finally give your brain the raise it deserves—by firing your relentless schedule.

✨ Final Takeaway

Your real "work" is learning to be completely idle. Because only when you stop chasing time . . . does life finally catch up with you.

I'm Patrick Ball. Be curious, ask questions, and live!

Comments

Boy on a Beam

In this special bonus episode, Boy on a Beam. In a world long ago, when the days moved quite slow, Before buzzes and beeps and the fast things we know, A boy sat quite still on a very fine day, Just staring at nothing . . . and thinking away. No tablets! No gadgets! No screens shining bright! No earbuds stuck in from morning till night. No lists, no charts, and no chores to be done. He just sat there thinking—that's quiet-time fun! His name was Young Albert. He sat in his chair, Thinking of things that weren’t really there. “Suppose,” said Young Albert, with eyes open wide, “I ran super fast with my arms by my side! Suppose I ran faster than anyone knew, And caught up to sunshine that zoomed past me—too! If I hopped on its back for a light-speedy ride, What secrets would I find tucked away deep inside?” “Would stars look like sprinkles, all shiny and small? Would UP feel like sideways? Would BIG feel like Tall?” He giggled and wondered and thought, and he dreamed, Till his head fel...

Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way

🎩 In this special episode. How to Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way It’s 2026! Yes— this is the year! A different kind of start—you feel it right here? No lists! No demands! No fix-all-your-flaws! No “New You by Tuesday!” No rules! No laws! Those resolutions? Bah! Dusty and dry! We’ve tried fixing everything —so let’s ask why. Why rush and correct and improve and compare, When noticing quietly gets you right there ? So here’s a new project—no charts, no clocks, No boxes to check in your mental inbox. It’s bigger than busy and smaller than grand, It’s called Un-Working —now give me your hand! Un-Working’s not quitting or hiding away, It’s setting things down that shout “Hurry! Hey!” The hustle! The bustle! The faster-than-fast! The gotta-win-now or you’re stuck in the past! That’s the work of Un-Working— plop! —set it free! The titles! The labels! The “Look-At-Me!” The crown that kept sliding and pinching your head— You never looked comfy . . . let’s try this instead: Pick up a tel...

The Thought Experiment–Revisited

In this episode. The Thought Experiment–Revisited The Boy on a Light Beam In 1895, a sixteen-year-old boy did something we rarely allow ourselves to do anymore. He stared into space and let his mind wander. No phone. No notes. No “Optimization Hacks” for his morning routine. Just a question: What would happen if I chased a beam of light—and actually caught it? That boy was Albert Einstein . And that single act of curiosity—a Gedankenexperiment , a thought experiment—eventually cracked open Newton’s tidy universe and rearranged our understanding of time itself. Not bad for an afternoon of daydreaming. Imagine if Einstein had been “productive” instead. He would have logged the light-beam idea into a Notion database, tagged it #CareerGrowth, and then promptly ignored it to attend a forty-five-minute “Sync” about the color of the departmental logo. He’d have a high Efficiency Score—and we’d still be stuck in a Newtonian universe , wondering why the Wi-Fi is slow. In a post I wrote back in...

The Great Un-Working

In this episode. 2026—The Year of the Great Un-Working Welcome to On the Fly . If you’re new here, this is a place for noticing—the small, easily missed moments that quietly turn out to matter. It’s part reflection, part curiosity, and occasionally part grease-stained bicycle rag. If you’re searching for life hacks, hustle culture, or a seven-step plan to optimize your morning coffee, you may have taxied onto the wrong runway. But if you’ve ever felt the itch to slow down and look around—welcome aboard. We begin 2026 by analyzing the blog post below. Traditional resolutions are often just "re-work"—tasks we assign ourselves to become more efficient cogs. In the 2026 era of Un-Working, a resolution isn't a goal; it’s an unlearning. Join Jim & Chloe, our AI analysis team, with the help of NotebookLM, as they unpack, explore, and expand on this blog post. Happy 2026! If you’re like us, you spent the last week of 2025 doing three things remarkably well: Avoiding unfinish...

On The Fly

Search This Blog