Take a Break
If you’re anything like me, your definition of a good time is doing non-“work”-related work and/or you only feel relaxed if you have a whole day to be productive and/or you are stumped when people ask you what you do for fun, so here’s hoping you are not like me. But if you are, read on!
I recently traveled to Glacier National Park with family, and the interesting thing about that is I have more or less not left the Twin Cities in over a year thanks to the pandemic (in case you hadn’t heard). It was surreal to be surrounded by mountains, breathing mountain air, and hiking mountainsides. It was equally surreal to not look at my laptop screen for ten days. Even though I was focused on enjoying nature every day and I was 1,100 miles away from Microsoft Word, I felt my brain writing and generating more than it has in months. I was inspired to work on current projects and full of ideas for new ones, and I think this burst of energy was precisely because I couldn’t actually accomplish anything. Vacationing in a beautiful place offers the gift of a creative freedom that is not bound up in having to sit and do the work-work.
For a perfectionist who is generally incapable of leaving work if it is not as good as it can possibly be, taking a break can be a challenge. Breaks for me are either associated with guilt (i.e. the classical musician’s most-heard sentence: “you should be practicing”) or with productivity (i.e. “I’m stumped on this paragraph so I’ll go for a walk to loosen up my brain”—which is getting-the-work-done disguised as a break).
Obviously, we need breaks. We can’t work 24 hours a day, every day (or any day). Breaks are essential for creativity and innovation, for preventing and recovering from stress, and for keeping your mind and body in sync when you’re, you know, competing at the Olympics.
But for those of us who are guilt-ridden workaholics (I’ll assume those who aren’t have stopped reading by now), how do we actually let ourselves take breaks? Reflecting on how they make us feel and the importance of that is one way to start. I think there are two types of breaks, and both of them are crucial for creativity and mental health.
Productive breaks are when you take that walk around the block to get your brain un-stumped. They’re little breaks, breaks that should be a regular part of your creative practice. For a period in my music school days, I was practicing piano nine hours each day to prepare for a competition. I did not do that from eight in the morning to five in the evening and call it a day. It was two hours here, one hour there, and within each of those chunks I still managed to stand up from the piano and walk around every once in a while—although not nearly as much as I should have, which led to persistent issues with back pain. This is why rest days are important for fitness, and why you take breaks between sets at the gym. It’s physically necessary; your body is not a machine (and even machines need to be well-cared for).
The brain needs time away, too, in order to avoid burnout and keep functioning smoothly. This is the idea behind the Pomodoro Technique, which is about breaking your productivity into 25-minute chunks separated by five-minute breaks, with a longer break after every few “Pomodoros.” The idea is that enforcing frequent, short breaks will lead to greater productivity than losing yourself in the work for five hours.
Then there are true breaks, which are when the goal is not to be productive or creative or anything (of course, this still ends up being essential to being productive or creative at some other time). Maybe this is the classical musician in me, but I like my true breaks to be earned. A true break comes after a recital that I’ve been preparing for months, or after finishing a draft of a novel or sending a script off to a contest. It feels better when it’s earned—it’s celebratory. But true breaks are also important for preventing burnout and for simply, you know, living your life, which is something you and your body deserve even if you haven’t “earned” time off by meeting a deadline or an output goal. Breaks are ultimately about listening to your body and your soul. Do you really need to just not do something for a while? That’s okay.
Also, consider that your art could need a break from you. I like to think of my projects as relationships. When my piano students are learning a new piece and they’re trying to play it at performance tempo and they’re frustrated that it’s not going smoothly, I remind them that it’s generally not advisable to marry someone after one date (well, I remind the adults of this; the kids will learn eventually). You have to put the effort in, get to know each other, bond over time. Relationships are a two-way give-and-take (yes, even those between you and that short film that came out of your brain), and having space in them—i.e., the ability to keep independent identities, to have alone time when you need it, to step away from bad energy—is really important. As one couples therapist puts it: “In reality, brief periods of solitude recharge our soul batteries and allow us to give even more to our partners and to the relationship itself.” Don’t be a dead-battery partner to your art; let it breathe on its own for a while, and you may find that it improved in its time away from you.
“Okay, okay,” you’re thinking, “you’ve talked me into not working. What do I do?” Maybe this is not actually what you’re thinking, but the obvious reply of “Do anything you want!” is overwhelming to me. So, here are some specific suggestions for my future self, and maybe for you:
Sleep. Sleep is obviously necessary. Get your nightly eight hours if you can. When your brain is getting fried and obsessive about something at midnight, let it go and allow yourself to power off until tomorrow. Naps are great, too. Did you know that taking naps can improve your memory, help your brain make connections, and boost your immune health? This tends to surprise people, but I am very pro-nap.
Go outside. Being in nature is so good for creativity. Just a few minutes outside can rejuvenate your brain, and studies have shown that spending time in nature is associated with increases in happiness and purpose. Sounds good to me.
Exercise. There’s nothing like being super excited about a project and then sitting in a single stiff position for two hours as you work on it. Get your blood moving again and give yourself the gift of endorphins. Maintaining a good mind-body connection can be especially difficult for those of us non-athletes who live in our heads more than we move around in the world, so being intentional about exercise is a good way to stay grounded and mindful.
Be the experiencer. Read a book, watch a movie, go to an art museum! Taking in other art is good for your own art and for your general human being-ness. It’s the easiest way to get distracted from your own work (being distracted is like being tricked into a break) and to find inspiration that you can bring back to your own drawing board—or just enjoy for its own sake. While I was doing my piano doctorate, I watched Breaking Bad every night because the stress of that show was worse than the stress I felt in my real life so it gave me a break from myself. (I’m not sure this is an advisable example, though. I probably should have just quietly meditated my nights away.)
Meditate. A consistent meditation practice can change your brain, helping you become more attentive and less anxious. Even a few minutes a day of paying attention to your breathing is helpful for staying centered, calm, and collected.
Zone out. Is the break you’re craving one that involves scrolling mindlessly through Instagram? Go for it. However, because of the heavy addiction that is our phones and social media, try to stay intentional about and aware of how you’re using your phone. Mindlessly scroll through social media because that’s what you’re choosing to do—not because your phone has such a hold on you that it lulls you into a two-hour trance without your consent.
Nourish yourself. Feeding yourself is really important, did you know? Sometimes my favorite form of a break is cooking dinner at the end of the day, because my brain has to focus on ingredients and smells and cook times—and, you know, it feels good to eat. But nourishing yourself isn’t only about eating. Chat with a friend, get a massage, take some time to paint your nails if that’s your jam. Nourishing is about doing what feels good.
Use your brain differently. I started learning Czech during the pandemic, and studying it for a few minutes at a time has become one of my favorite activities—all because it literally does not matter. Nobody cares if I do or do not learn Czech; I don’t have anyone in my life to speak Czech with; I am not even planning a trip to The Czech Republic (although that is the goal, eventually). Something just feels good about doing something at the beginner level that has zero charge on it. No pressure whatsoever. Sketch your cat. Learn about astronomy. Teach yourself how to do something you haven’t tried before. It’s fun, I promise, and your brain likes to grow.
Travel if you can. This doesn’t have to mean a trip to Glacier National Park or blasting into space on your own rocket. It might just mean walking three blocks south of your usual walking route or driving to a town you haven’t been to for Saturday lunch. Being around new scenery is an excellent way to take a break, because none of that scenery will hold the weight and reminders of your day-to-day life.
Find or create your happy place. Maybe this is bizarre, but whenever I have a horrible cold, I low-key enjoy that I get to spend an entire day on my couch, in and out of sleep, in and out of a book, in and out of TV, eating when I’m hungry, taking a hot shower only if it sounds good. During these times, I make mental notes to remember to have some lazy days when I’m not feeling horrible, because taking time to rest and do only what my body and mind wants to do is not something I do very often. Spending time in your happy place just means being somewhere and/or doing something that feels safe, comforting, and maybe even—dare I say?—fun.
Okay, well, I’m writing this post on my sister’s balcony in Los Angeles, where I’m surrounded by sunshine and palm trees and the chatter of people walking their dogs. While writing Wild Minds is indeed something I do for fun, I do recognize the irony of reflecting on break-taking while typing away at my computer on a long weekend away from home.
So, without further ado: the rest of your day! Get some creative juices flowing if you want to, but be sure to breathe and enjoy the world, too.
Here’s a great Writers Recommend piece by Moheb Soliman on living for its own sake: “This is my call: Stop writing, and go get into something non-representational.”
Struggling with a phone addiction? (Aren’t we all?) This is a delightful and terrifying book about how that addiction is working and what you can do about it.
Last up, stretch it all out with pandemic queen Yoga with Adriene’s Yoga for Writers.
Read more Wild Minds posts here.