In Praise of Wasting Time

by Alan Lightman

“When a monk has gone into an empty place, and has calmed his mind, [he] experiences a delight that transcends that of men.”

Without the breathing and the voice of my inner self, I am a prisoner of the wired world around me.

Danish researcher Signe Juhl Møller and others have found that when children are playing, the meaning of a particular toy or object can change, leading to novel uses of the toy. “These perceptions and uses may violate the rules and norms outside or inside the play activity,” says Møller. When we play, we are free. We are free of authority. We are free of the grid. We are free of time. And we are left to roam through the halls of our minds. Canadian educator Sister Valerie Van Cauwenberghe says: “Play is the total of all the spontaneous, creative activities in which children freely choose to engage. The urge to teach must not conflict with the desire to learn.”

“Unsatisfied wishes are the driving power behind fantasies,” wrote Freud, and fantasies lead to creative ideas. Another theory is that creativity is associated with mild mental illness. People are more creative when they are more self-reflective, and self-reflection is sometimes associated with depression. Fear of death may motivate some people to create, to produce something immortal.

On one aspect of creativity most researchers agree. It is something called “divergent thinking”: the ability to explore many different avenues and solutions to a problem in a spontaneous and non-orderly fashion.

Divergent thinking does not cooperate on demand. It is not easily summoned. It does not follow the clock. It cannot be rushed. It withers and fades under external schedules and noise and assignments.

Rather, it lollygags along on its own; it sprawls in the sun, taking its own time. Divergent thinking is associated with play, creativity, and curiosity.

I would argue, however, that in most and perhaps all forms of creative activity, an unencumbered, unregimented, inward-looking mind is required at certain points—a mind that has unplugged from the wired world.

I’ve had the good fortune in my life to mingle with many of her fellow painters as well as my own scientific and literary colleagues. I’ve also known musical composers. One thing all these people share is an embrace of solitude. Not that these are unsociable people. But they practice their craft in solitude. They draw strength from being alone while they create or explore new worlds. They need that aloneness. They have developed the habit of mind to accept and seek out that aloneness. Sometimes, they must push back against their society to get what they need.