The Art of Doing Nothing: Finding Stillness in the Islands

Summer markets have quieted. The blackberries have all been eaten. The panic to preserve the garden’s bounty has finally subsided. And the sun, suddenly sleepier, is much slower to peek above the horizon in the mornings. These are all signs that the Southern Gulf Islands’ slow season has arrived. 

Here, the shift into the shoulder season is palpable. As fall descends, it almost feels like the islands take a collective breath and exhale a big, long release as we ease into these colder months.

Our makers, growers, and creators often lean into the off-season to pause and recharge. Many of us finally find the time to practice the long-lost art of doing nothing. We find stillness and peace and, in the meantime, a wellspring of new energy.

Follow the signs to stillness

As the colder months arrive, the natural world is showing us signs of its intentions. Plants go dormant, creatures big and small tuck into hibernation, and our mornings are darker. But, sometimes, we forget that we are also part of the natural world. Shouldn’t these signs tell us that we too should think of slowing down to rest? 

Philosophers and mystics have touted the value of doing nothing for millennia. From Matsuo Bashō’s writings — “Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself” — to Lao Tzu’s poignancy — “Be still. Stillness reveals the secrets of eternity” — many of our world’s greatest minds have encouraged us to find a quiet space.

The art of doing nothing and cultivating stillness isn’t an idea lost to ancient wisdom. It follows a throughline into more recent teachers as well. Deepak Chopra has said, “In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you,” while part-time Salt Spring resident Eckhart Tolle tells us that “[s]pace and silence are two aspects of the same thing. The same no-thing. They are externalization of inner space and inner silence, which is stillness: the infinitely creative womb of all existence.” (The Power of Now).

Perhaps today’s world doesn’t allow us to turn it off permanently, but what would happen if we made time to turn off the noise for a moment or two?

Transition to a Slower Pace

We live in a world of hustle. Work and pleasure are go, go go. We cram every second of every day with content, action, and noise. Especially as summer hits, suddenly, we feel the drive to make every moment a good one. You aren’t alone in your rush to the next weekend, the next event, the next vacation.

Lena McKenzie, a mother and writer on Salt Spring Island, really noticed this shift in seasonal energy when she moved to Canada from the Philippines: “One of the biggest impressions I had of the seasons is that Canadian summers are so intense. Everyone jams the summer with as many activities as possible. As much fun and as many experiences as they can fit into a summer. It’s exhausting. By the time fall comes around, I’m exhausted.”

But what would happen if you did nothing for a day? For a weekend? For a season? What would this moment of stillness bring us? 

If the words of mystics and teachers have any truth, by cultivating a space for nothing, we could find the “secrets of eternity” or experience “the infinitely creative womb of all existence.”

These are perhaps much greater expectations than any single day or weekend of stillness can allow, but that doesn’t stop many Gulf Islanders from trying. With the pressures of the high season behind us, many of us are turning inward, turning off, and embracing a slower timeline.

One islander who leans into this is Ari Lazer of Sacred Light Designs. As he explained in the slow season, “A part of me that comes online wants to take in deep learning or explorations that I didn’t have enough time in the busy months. In the winter months, like the trees slow down, my practice slows down. It’s more of a time for listening and moving inwards.”

Marica DeVicque (Marcia DeVicque Glassworks on Galiano) feels similarly, as she described it’s now, “ Time to create uninterrupted. To follow a thought, even an ember of a dream into a finished piece.” It’s okay to stay inside beside a warm fire forgetting about the work outside, because Marcia said, “Spring will come soon enough.” 

Learning the Art of Doing Nothing

Although the art of doing nothing may feel easy, it can be one of the most challenging skills to learn. Just think about what leaving your phones behind or turning off your notifications would be like. It’s, in a word, scary. The art of doing nothing is not an easy task. Instead, it takes a bit of practice and intention. 

What can help you overcome that initial resistance? For starters, it can help to practice the art of doing nothing in a place that embraces stillness — a place like the Gulf Islands in the slow season. 

Sarah Jane Smith, of The Nest Yoga and Embodied Possibility says, “Practicing the art of slowing down is practicing embodied presence. Simply put, being attuned to the environment around you by using your senses.”

To get started, she recommends taking a moment to be present with your senses, “Focus on the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feel the world around you.” You have to slow down to do this, but you can do it anywhere — over a morning coffee, walking your dog, or even simply getting dressed. 

Yet, trying to disconnect and slow down in a big city can feel daunting. Taking a weekend off on purpose to visit a quiet cabin on Mayne Island or an off-grid rental in the north end of Galiano could help you familiarize yourself with this practice, before attempting in the hustle and bustle of regular city life.

The truth is, the slow season here is different. It not only embraces winding down for winter but in some regards, will almost force you to. In summer, filling your Gulf Island schedule with markets, wineries, and music is easy, but you’ll find a much different pace between October and May in the off-season. 

At this time of year, our summer markets are winding down, most restaurants are on break or have limited hours, and many of the activities you’ve come to expect are on hold until spring. And if you’ve come here to rest and finally have a moment to “do nothing,” these are actually good things. Not only will you be surrounded by an entire community with the same mindset, but you’ll also have fewer daily distractions and much less FOMO. 

What Does Doing Nothing Look Like in the Southern Gulf Islands?

What does nothing look like? Doing nothing doesn’t usually mean sitting on your hands and staring at a blank wall (although, if that helps your meditation practice, by all means, don’t let us distract you).

Instead, doing nothing is about cultivating presence and slowing down. We like to say it’s about low-key living at an easygoing pace. The art of doing nothing involves no hustle and, for sure, no bustle. It doesn’t have a schedule or deadline, and it likely doesn’t have a goal. 

In practice, that may mean spending an afternoon poking at pebbles at Gowlland Point on South Pender Island. It could mean a morning walking meditation along Mayne’s Campbell Point Trail. Or, stocking up on necessities at the Saturna General Store before a phone-free evening around a flickering fireplace. 

Ultimately, the details are up to you. But whatever your moment of stillness and disconnection looks like, you know you can find it here.

Written by Jessica McKeil