10 Ways To Be A Nothing Body

As opposed to being a hopeless busybody.

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

I don't like being busy. I know that sounds like a crazy thing to say for someone who is always in motion, always on a flight, always coaching, always building. Like, Chidi...you are literally the definition of busy, this man. Now, when I am in my flow, taking care of the stuff that needs to be done, that’s fine. But being busy just because?

No. Mba nu.

Hear me out.

Busyness just to be busy gives me bad vibes and physical wahala. My shoulders get tight, my jaw clenches up, and I get cranky for no reason. The body is begging, 'Oga Chidi, chill out o!' And when you ignore that call, that’s when the real wahala hits.

There’s this cool story that I read way back in the day (as in pre-COVID) that codified this for me. The best part was this allegory about an old crocodile floating at the river’s edge when a younger crocodile swam up to him.

“I’ve heard you’re the fiercest hunter in all of the river bottoms. Teach me your ways.”

The old crocodile glanced at him with one reptilian eye, said nothing, and fell back asleep.

Frustrated, the young crocodile swam off to chase catfish. Came back bragging. “I caught two meaty catfish. What have you caught? Nothing? Perhaps you’re not so fierce after all.”

The old crocodile said nothing and continued to float.

The young crocodile swam off again, thrashed about for hours, caught a small crane. Swam back with the bird in his jaws, ready to show the elder who the real hunter was.

As he rounded the bend, the old crocodile was still in the same spot. Only now, a large wildebeest was drinking just inches from his head.

One movement. Lightning fast. The old crocodile bolted out of the water, wrapped his jaws around the wildebeest, and pulled him under.

The young crocodile floated there with his tiny bird, watching the elder enjoy a 500-pound meal.

“Please…how did you do that?”

Through mouthfuls of wildebeest, the old crocodile finally responded:

“I did nothing.”

Eish. That is quite violent, honestly, now that I read that again. Na wa o.

So I’ve been thinking about, instead of being a busybody, what it means to be a Nothing Body. We all know the busybody, right? Or, wait…, is it that wo(man) in the mirror? Busying with a vengeance, always in motion, always performing productivity, always chasing catfish. And there must be proof…the WhatsApp and LinkedIn updates showing you busyfying and killing it because what else is life.

Nothing Body. Being big on taking time to chill. Being at peace with not having to do stuff all the time, and proving you are doing stuff. In this day and age, that is hard. I get it. And we have to be able to make a living, which demands we do the work. The question is, are you doing busy work, or are you doing real work?

Oya, let me provide some unsolicited and unnecessary advice that you still need or you will not make it.

---

Float like the crocodile: That grey gold croc was positioned from experience, not lazy, as the young croc was getting all riled up about. He was already where the opportunity was going to show up. I have seen folks busy themselves out of opportunities. All the time. Impatience galore. You can’t be in position if you are always in motion chasing catfish. Stillness is the accumulation of power. Park well o, my friend. The wildebeest will come.

Audit your fake nothing: If you are doing nothing, what does your nothing actually look like? When you decide to take it down by scrolling the toks and grams or binge watching a show on Youflix, you know in the back of your head that is bad calories nothing. Is your brain still on the clock, processing someone else's content, someone else's drama? I check myself on this regularly, run the diagnostic on what I call "chilling." If a screen is involved, chances are I am still consuming, still working my mind, still on somebody else's frequency. That is not nothing.

Take the digital sabbath: If you've been rocking with Fashi Mindset for a while, you've heard me on this one. Pick a day, Saturday or Sunday. Maybe even just a section of the day, 7pm to bedtime. No phone. No laptop. No iPad. Hide them if you have to, give them to your spouse or partner, find somewhere that makes you think twice about reaching for the device. That urge to pick it up will be relentless in the first hour or so because we are addicted to this stuff, walahi. Sit with that discomfort. I said sit with it. Pick up a book, take a walk (not at 7pm), write something, listen to music, and actually pay attention to the lyrics. Or the beats and production, for recovering producers like me.

Go to the village: My father lived at a pace in the village that many of his peers and even younger ones envied him for. The village is where time does not perform for anybody. Now that he is recently gone, I realize that pace was a gift, deliberate and unhurried and full of presence. I miss the dude, man. So find your village, your alternate universe where time moves differently. I am not talking about a vacation in the Maldives. Your village might be your grandma's porch, your uncle's farm, a cabin somewhere with no wifi. Somewhere that reminds you what life felt like before you started filling every minute of it.

Use transit as your nothing lab: Hey, I know…I fly a lot, and that is plenty of hours in the sky. What do I do with that time? Movies. iPad. Podcasts. What if I just...didn't? In the air…you are suspended at 30,000 feet, the people and routines that normally define your daily life are miles away, and there is nowhere to rush to. That is prime nothing time. There’s a reason it is the last place where phone calls are banned. Sketch something. Journal. Write a letter to someone you've been meaning to reach out to. Stare out the window and let your mind wander without a destination.

Schedule nothing like you schedule everything else: I book nothing time on my calendar. Explicitly and purposefully. When I travel to other cities, I will add a full day of nothing if possible. No friends, no tours, no dinners, nothing. It is on the calendar, it has a name, and I protect it. Because if nothing is not on the calendar, something will eat it. Every single time. Take that time, eh? And block it. Name it. Guard it the way you guard your most important commitment. Because this one is to yourself.

Stop performing rest: Listen…this is the one that folks need to really chill on. Nobody really needs to see your hammock photo or your “self-care Sunday” post. You know the post where we catch you waking up on vacation, or just relaxing on your balcony? Real nothing has no audience, no documentation, no content strategy, abeg. The moment you are curating your rest for public consumption, you are being a busybody again…influencing to perform and impress. Just sharrap and rest. For real.

Unbusy your body: I said it already. Your body knows before your brain does when you are overdoing it. All the pains and aches and blurry vision and seeing phantoms in the parking lot? That is data. That is your body running diagnostics and throwing up red flags. A Nothing Body learns to obey that signal. When the tension shows up, your body is telling you to pull over. So pull over. Get up from the desk. Take a walk around the block. Stretch. Lie on the floor for ten minutes doing absolutely nothing. Check yourself before you wreck yourself o.

Practice the crocodile’s silence: Not every WhatsApp message needs a reply right now. My sister Udo is rolling her eyes 360 degrees with that one. But it is true. Not every email needs a response today. Not every opportunity needs a "yes" this minute. Let things float. Use silence as your weapon. Listen and silent…same letters, for a reason. The wildebeest came to the crocodile. The crocodile did not go looking for it.

Trust the nothing: This is the hardest one, for real. Especially for the gangsters like us who build things for a living. We are wired to produce. I even feed this with my own mantra, “we keep pushing”. When nothing is happening, the mind starts to do that amapiano dance. I need something to do. Something needs to be done. Let me check the phone. Let me open the laptop. That itch is the busybody in you starting its wahala. The clarity, the big play, the next Oga Boss move...we think all of that comes from the pushing. Some of my strongest thinking and breakthroughs have come from periods when life forced me to be still, when I had no choice but to sit down and sharrap. Things are not moving? Ok. Folks are not responding? Ok. I took the time to chill, and not chase. And stuff showed up when it showed up. The Nothing works, I swear. Trust it.

Find you some nothing this week, and wallow in it o.