Why We Need Quieter Days
Today I picked up A Simpler Life by The School of Life, and one chapter in particular stood out to me: Why We Need Quieter Days.
It reminded me that stillness isn’t wasted — it’s often where everything begins. In our quieter moments, we start to notice the small pleasures that busyness makes us rush past. What might look like “dull” or “unproductive” days from the outside can, in truth, be deeply nourishing and quietly fruitful.
Mundane moments — folding laundry, sipping coffee, staring out the window —suddenly become spaces for reflection. They help our thoughts untangle, restore our patience, and bring clarity to what really matters!
So today I decided to lean into simplicity. No pressure, no big goals. Just space to breathe, read, and let ideas arrive in their own time. A day that may look unproductive from the outside, but quietly fills the well for tomorrow. And since it’s raining, it feels like the perfect backdrop for slowing down, listening inward, and not pressuring myself to be creative.
Here's a glimpse into the chapter Why We Need Quieter Days:
The chapter begins by observing how modern culture glorifies busyness. We often measure our worth by how much we accomplish in a day, how full our calendars are, and how “productive” we appear. In this mindset, a quiet day with nothing scheduled can feel like a failure or a waste of time.
But the book challenges this assumption. It argues that what looks like idleness can, in fact, be profoundly fruitful. Quieter days — where little seems to happen — give our minds space to wander and our emotions space to settle. They allow us to notice things we usually overlook: the comfort of a warm drink, the sound of rain, a fleeting memory, or the small kindness of a stranger. These seemingly minor details carry deep emotional value, but in our rush, we often miss them.
The chapter explains that slowness restores perspective. When we aren’t pulled in ten directions, our thoughts have time to untangle. We can reflect on experiences, re-examine relationships, and listen to what our deeper selves are trying to say. In this way, quiet days are not empty — they are the fertile soil where creativity, clarity, and emotional healing take root.
Ultimately, the chapter reframes “unproductive” days as deeply valuable and necessary. They replenish our energy, deepen our appreciation of small joys, and reconnect us with what matters most. Far from wasted, these quiet stretches of time are where much of life’s richness is quietly waiting. It’s a heartwarming call to give ourselves permission to pause, to rest, and to trust that quiet days can quietly transform us. Love it!!!
Saba x